
Class .JM_1 







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COPYRIGHT DFPOSIT 






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lyJiLFkdhps.Ny- 




A BAPTIST ABROAD 



OR 



TRAVELS AND ADVENTURES 



EQI^OPE Jim Jllifc BIBBE &JINDS 



BY 



^ 



REV. WALTER ANDREW WHITTLE 

W 

WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY 



HON. J. L. M. CURRY, LL.D. 



WITH MAPS AND NUMEROUS ILLUSTRATIONS. 



5 



L 



"Where rose the mountains, there to him were friends; 
Where rolled the ocean, thereon was his home; V.O^f PQ IflQni' 

Where a blue sky, and glowing clime, extends, jLK ^ ^^) \J 

r (^■'~ He had the passion and the power to roam; -ii|v,ir;TC^^< ^^^ 

^ U' The desert, forest, cavern, breakers foam, '""^-^^ ■■.. --'"' 

■w*' ■^'' ' Were unto him companionship ; they spake 

A mutual language, clearer than the tome 
Of his land's tongue, which he would oft forsake 
For Nature's page glassed by sunbeams on the lake." 

Childe Harold. 



NEW YORK: 

J. A. HILL & CO., 

UNION SQUARE, 
1890. 






COPYKIGHT, 1S90. 

By J. A. HILL & COMPANY, 
All rights reserved. 



MOTHER 
WILL READ THIS BOOK 

THROUGH 

TWO PAIRS OF SPECTACLES. 

ONE PAIR 

WILL MAGNIFY ITS VIRTUES 

WHILE THE OTHER 

WILL DIMINISH ITS DEFECTS. 

THEREFORE IT 

IS AFFECTIONATELY AND LOVINGLY 

DEDICATED TO 

MOTHER. 



INTRODUCTION. 



Next to seeing a foreign land with one's own 
eyes is seeing it through the eyes of an intelligent, 
appreciative countryman. The word is purposely 
chosen, because one wishes to know what is 
observed and thought by a person who has tastes, 
sympathies and views in common with himself. 
A thousand things in a strange country are 
interestinof and in different degfrees. One studies 
historically, another socially, another politically, 
another ecclesiastically, while unfortunately not a 
few rush pell-mell bringing back the most superfi- 
cial and indistinct impressions. Some find most 
satisfaction in architecture, while others have 
their chiefest enjoyment in sculpture, in painting, 
in natural scenery, in costumes and customs. No 
two have precisely the same fancies, and yet an 
observant, cultivated countryman is more likely 
to please us by what he likes and describes than 
is a foreigner whose point of view and whose 
mental habitudes are so different from our own. 
What is most pleasing in a book of travels Is wide 
and varied observation, is an account of several 



IV INTRODUCTION, 

countries inhabited by different races and distin- 
guished by marked peculiarities. 

This volume embraces a wide extent of travel, 
and includes an account of visits to Great Britain, 
Switzerland, Italy, Turkey, Greece, Palestine, 
Egypt, etc. The full table of contents is a little 
misleading, for the chapters pertaining to Europe 
are short, and Palestine takes up a considerable 
portion of the work. The author, avoiding what 
is dry or didactic, manages to compress into his 
pages much valuable and trustworthy information. 
His own religious denomination, naturally and 
properly, is not overlooked, and from eminent 
men he has succeeded in obtaining monographs 
which o-ive interesting facts, drawn from most 
authentic sources. The portraitures of men, of 
whom everybody wishes to know more, constitute 
an Interesting feature of the book. 

The journey was not a mere vacation tour, a 
hasty gallop to points visited by circular tourists, 
but it comprised many months of patient toil, nor 
were the countries seen from the windows of the 
car of an express train, Lubboch, in his essay on 
the Pleasures of Travel, says that some think 
that every one should travel on foot "like Thales, 
Plato and Pythagoras," Mr. Whittle is a pedes- 
trian by choice, full of enterprise, activity, courage 



INTRODUCTION. 



and enthusiasm, and on foot he deviated often 
from the beaten paths, and had opportunities for 
careful examination of objects of interest and for 
much pleasant and instructive intercourse with 
the "common people." With an eye quick to dis- 
cern what was peculiar, with an unquenchable 
thirst for kowledge, he combined a cheerful* dispo- 
sition, a ready appreciation of the humorous, 
and has succeeded in giving the public a volume, 
every page of which is interesting. 

Travel, as a means of improvement, of education, 
of broadening horizon, of getting us out of narrow 
ruts, can hardly be overestimated. A visit to 
Europe, Africa and Asia makes objective what 
was subjective, and gives realism to what was 
before vaguely in our memories. Some acquaint- 
ance with geography, with history, literature, art, 
enhances the interest and the profit. A young 
student who had visited Jerusalem was much 
flattered by a request from Humboldt to call and 
see him. The savant soon showed that from 
reading and inquiry he had more knowledge of 
the city than the youth had acquired by his visit. 
With some mortification and a little petulance 
the young man said: " I understood, sir, that you 
had never visited the Holy City." "True," re- 
plied Humboldt, "I never have; but I once got 



VI INTRODUCTION. 

ready to go." Mr. Whittle, with wise forethought, 
had made preparation for his visit. He knew 
what he wanted to see, traveled with a purpose, 
and has so imparted to his readers what he 
learned and observed that one catches in part 
the enthusiasm of the traveler. 

J. L. M. Curry. 



PREFACE. 



"Around the World in Eighty Days" has had 
an extensive circulation, especially in America. 
The title is striking. Our people like to do things 
quickly. Many of them would be glad to girdle 
the globe in forty days. They forget that "what 
is worth doing at all is worth doing well." Under 
the patronage of Tourist Agencies it has become 
quite fashionable of late to do Europe in three 
months. These flying trips do perhaps result in 
some good to the tourist, but they are valuable 
chiefly to the agencies under which they are 
made. 

Traveling is no child's play. Sight seeing when 
properly done is hard work, but hard work is the 
kind of work that pays best in the long run. To 
see any country aright and understand it correctly 
one must not merely visit its fashionable watering 
places, large cities, splendid abbeys and cathedrals, 
noted art galleries, rrtuseums, etc. He must see 
these things to be sure, but in addition to these 
he must, in order to get a correct conception, go out 
into the mountains, into the rural districts, and 
there study the soil, climate and products of the 
country. He must commune with the yeomanry 
the common people, and closely scrutinize their 



Vlll PREFACE. 



daily life and habits. He must see, as best he 
can,hov/ climate, political surroundings, education, 
occupation, and religion affect their character. 
He must project himself as far as possible into 
the thoughts and feelings of the people among 
whom he is traveling. This prepares him to 
sympathize with them, and to look at things from 
their standpoint. The traveler is then prepared 
to reason from cause to effect. He has gotten 
hold of that golden thread of truth which leads to 
right conclusions. He is in condition to explain 
upon correct and philosophical principles the 
Socialism of France, the Skepticism of Germany, 
the Nihilism of Russia, and the Pauperism of 
Turkey. 

Having under the providence of God been 
permitted to make an extensive and prolonged 
trip through the East, I determined from the 
outset to get out of the beaten tracks of travel. In 
applying the above-named principles, I walked a 
thousand miles through different European coun- 
tries, and rode six hundred miles and more in 
the saddle through Bible lands. This necessarily 
gave me a varied experience, and brought me 
into close contact with every phase of nature 
and human nature. At times every faculty of 
mind and heart was stirred to its profoundest 
depths. I was forced to think. And, lest these 
thrilling thoughts should slip away from me, I 
determined "to fasten them in words and chain 
them in writing." I agree with Gray that "a few 



PREFACE. IX 

words fixed upon or near the spot are worth a 
cartload of recollectionr 

This accounts to some extent for the use of the 
present tense in the book, and also for the col- 
loquial style in which it is written — it was com- 
posed on or near the spot. True, since then it has 
been carefully revised, re-written and enlarged; 
but originally it was written " on the spot." I 
made these pages my trusted confidant. To them 
I expressed my " every thought and floating 
fancy," and my words formed a true thermometer 
to my soul. But now I release these pages from 
all obligations of secrecy. They may tell it in 
Gath, and withhold it not in Askelon. I propose 
to take the public into my confidence. "In short, 
never did ten shillings purchase so much friend- 
ship since confidence went first to market, or 
honesty was set up to sale." 

I have carefully excluded all opiates from these 
pages. Brevity is the only claim I make to wit. 
I have not attempted to exhaust the subjects 
treated. My words are intended simply to strike 
the reader's thoughts which may interpret further. 
" If you would be prudent, be brief, " says Southey, 
" for 'tis with words as with sunbeams, the more 
they are condensed the deeper they burn." 

" Clarence P. Johnson " was my man " Friday," 
and from some of the jokes gotten off at his ex- 
pense the reader may conclude that he is a "man- 
eater," as was that other Friday of Robinson 
Crusoe fame. But not so. This was his maiden 



X PREFACE. 

trip out of his native city. Such things happened 
to him while traveling as would naturally occur 
with any other youth under the same circum- 
stances. He Is a young man of fine spirit and ex- 
traordinary business capacity. He will some day 
be known and felt In the commercial world. 

It gives me peculiar pleasure to acknowledge 
my indebtedness to Professor John R. Sampey, 
D. D., for valuable assistance rendered while pre- 
paring this book for the press. 

I have made free use of a wide range of litera- 
ture, but trust that In each case due credit has 
been given to the author. Many of the measure- 
ments given were made by myself, others have 
been taken from reliable sources. 

While abroad, I made it a special point to 
study the history and outlook of the Baptists in 
each of the several countries throuofh which I 
traveled, and I have not failed to record the 
result of my observations. But, in order to 
have Baptist history correctly, authentically, and 
impartially given, I have secured chapters from 
eminent men on the Baptists of their several 
countries. 

W. A. W. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

OFF FOR NEW YORK. 

Preparations — A Prayer and a Benediction — An Impatient Horse and a Run for 
Eternity — Strange Sceptre and Despotic Sway — Beauty in White Robes — 
Approaching the Metropolis — Business Heart of the New World — A Bright 
Face and a Cordial Greeting — An Hour with the President — More for a 
Shilling and Less for a Pound — A Stranger Dies in the Author's Arms — Name- 
sake — Prospects of Becoming a Great Man— A Confused College Student — The 
Hour of Departure — Native Land. Page, ...... 21 

CHAPTER H. 

ON THE HIGH SEAS. 

A Difficulty with the Officers of the Ship — A Parting Scene— Danger on the At- 
lantic — A Parallel Drawn — Liberty Enlightening the World — Life on the Ocean 
Wave — Friends for the Journey — The Ship a Little World — A Clown and his 
Partner — Birds of a Feather — Whales — Brain Food — Storm at Sea — A Fright- 
ened Preacher — Storm Rages — A Sea of Glory — Richard Himself Again — 
Land in Sight— Scene Described — Historic Castle — Voyage Ended — Two 
Irishmen. Page, • 29 

CHAPTER III. 

THE LAND OF BURNS. 

English Railway Coaches — Millionaires, Crowned Heads, and Fools — A Conductor 
Caught on a Cow-catcher — Last Rose of Summer— Off on Foot to the Land 
of Burns — Appearance of Country and Condition of People — Destination 
Reached— Doctor Whitsitt and Oliver Twist — The Ploughman Poet — His Cot- 
tage — His Relics — His Work and Worth— His Grave and Monument — A 
Broad View of Life. Page, ......... 38 

CHAPTER IV. 

EDINBURG. 

A JoUy Party of Americans —Dim-Eyed Pilgrim — Young Goslings — An American 
Goose Ranch — Birthplace of Robert Pollok and Mary Queen of Scots — 
The Boston of Europe— Home of Illustrious Men — A Monument to the Au- 
thor — Monument to Sir Walter Scott — Edinburgh Castle — Murdered and 
Head Placed on the Wall — Cromwell's Siege — Stones of Power — A 
Dazzling Diadem — A Golden Collar — Baptized in Blood — Meeting American 
Friends. Page ' a-j 



XI 1 CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER V. 

A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 

His Royal Hij^hness and a Demand for Fresh Air — A Boy in his Father's Clothes 
— Among the Common People — Nature's Stronghold — Treason Found in 
Trust — liody Quartered and Exposed on Iron Spikes — Receiving a Royal Sa- 
lute — Following no Road but a Winding River — Sleeveless Dresses and Dyed 
Hands — Obelisk to a Novelist and Poet — On the Scotch Lakes — Eyes to See 
but See Not — A Night of Rest and a Morning of Surprise — A Terrestrial 
Heaven — A Poetic Inspiration — A Deceptive Mountain — A Glittering Crown — 
Hard to Climb — An Adventure and a Narrow Escape— Johnson Gives Out — ■ 
Put to Bed on the Mountain Side — On and Up — A Summit at Last — Niagara 
Petrified — Overtaken by the Night^Johnson Lost in the Mountains — A Fruit- 
less Search — Bewildered — Exhausted — Sick. Page, .... 57 

CHAPTER VI. 

A GENERAL VIEW OF SCOTLAND. 

Highlands and Lowlands — Locked up for Fifteen Days — The Need of a Good 
Sole — A Soft Side of a Rock — The Charm of Reading on the Spot — A 
Fearful Experience — Bit and Bridle — Thunder-Riven — Volcanic Eruption — 
Dangerous Pits— An Hundred-Eyed Devil — Gloomy Dens — Meeting an Ene- 
my — Eyes Like Balls of Fire — Voice Like Rolling Thunder — A Speedy De- 
parture — Leaping from Rock to Rock — Silver Thread among the Mountains — 
Imperishable Tablets — The Cave of Rob Roy and the Land of the McGreg- 
ors — Lady of the Lake and Ellen's Isle — Lodging with Peasants and with 
Gentlemen — Rising in Mutiny — Strange Fuel — Character of Scotch People — 
Scotch Baptists — Sunrise at Two O'Clock in the Morning. Page, . 67 

CHAPTER VII. 

FROM DUNDEE TO MANCHESTER. 

Scotch Presbyterians in Convention — Their Character and Bearing — On the 
Footpath to Abbotsford — The Home of Scott — Five Miles through the 
Fields — Melrose Abbey and the Heart of Bruce — Hospitality of a Baptist 
Preacher — Adieu to Scotland — Merry England — Manchester — Exposition and 
Prince of Wales — Manchester and Cotton Manufacturers — A $25,000,000 
Scheme — Dr. Alexander Maclaren — His Appearance — The Force of his 
Thought — The Witchery of his Eloquence — His Hospitality Enjoyed — A 
Promise Made. Page, .......... 75 

CHAPTER VIII. 

BAPTIST CENTENNIAL. 

Three Baptist Associations — Centennial Year and Jubilee Year — Baptists Seen at 
their Best — Doctor Alexander Maclaren — Matchless Eloquence — Hon. John. 
Bright Delivers an Address — Boundless Enthusiasm — English Hospitality — 
A Home with the Mayor. Page, 84 



• CONTENTS. XIU 

CHAPTER IX. 

A SOJOURN IN ENGLAND AND ON TO WALES. 

Arrested and Imprisoned — Released without a Trial — Nottingham — Dwellers in 
Caves — Seven Hundred Years Old — forests of Ivanhoe and Robin Hood- 
Birthplace of Henry Kirk White— Home of the Pilgrim Fathers— Home of 
Thomas Cranmer — A Guide's Information — Home of Lord Byron — Wild 
Beasts from the Dark Continent— A Sad Epitaph — Byron's Grave — A Wed- 
ding Scene— Marriage Customs — Wales and Sea- Bathing — Among the Moun- 
tains — Welsh Baptists — A Tottering Establishment. Page, . . go 

CHAPTER X. 

LONDON. 

Entering London — The Great City Crowded — Six Million Five Hundred Thousand 

People Together — Lost in London — A Human Niagara — A Policeman and 

i^ockup — The Jubilee and the Golden Wedding — " God Save the Queen." 

and God Save the People — Amid England's Shouts and Ireland's Groans 

Heard. Page, 98 

CHAPTER XI. 

SIGHTS OF LONDON. 

Traveling in London— London a Studio — The Hum of Folly and the Sleep of 
Traffic — Five Million Heads in Nightcaps — Too Many People Together — Sur- 
vival of the Fittest — Place and Pride — Poverty and Penury — Beneficence in 
London — East End — Assembly Hall — A Converted Brewer — His Great Work 
— Meeting an Old Schoolmate. Page, 107 

CHAPTER XII. 

A TRIO OF ILLUSTRIOUi MEN 

Joseph Parker — Canon Farrar^Charles H. Spurgeon. Page, . . . 118 
CHAPTER XIII. 

NOTTINGHAM, CAMBRIDGE, AND BEDFORD. 

Preaching to 2,500 People — Entertained after the Manner of Royalty — Excursion 
to Cambridge — What Happened on the Way — Received an Entertainment by 
the Mayor — Cambridge University — King's Chapel — Fitzwilliam Museum — 
Trinity College — Cambridge Bibles — Adieu to Friends — Bedford — The Church 
where John Bunyan Preached — Bedford Jail, where Bunyan wrote Pilgrim's 
Progress — Bunyan's Statue — Elstow, Bunyan "s Birthplace — His Cottage — His 
Chapel — An Old Elm Tree. Page, 123 

CHAPTER XIV. 

THE BATISTS OF ENGLAND. 

Their Number and Divisions — The Regular Baptists — Their Movements and Pro- 
gress. Page, ..,..,..,.., 130 



XIV CONTENTS 

CHAPTER XV. 

LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. 

Windsor Castle, the Home of England's Queen — Queen Victoria — The Home of 
Shakespeare — Across the Channel — First Impressions — Old Time Ways — Brus- 
sels on a Parade — Waterloo Re-enacted — A Visit to the Field of Waterloo — 
A Lion with Eyes Fixed on France — Interview with a Man who Saw Napo- 
leon — Wertz Museum — " Napoleon in Hell" — "Hell in Revolt against Heav- 
en " — " Triumph of Christ " — Age Offering the Things of the Present to the 
Man of the Future, Page, 143 

CHAPTER XVI. 

FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THF, RHINE. 

Brussels — Its Laces and Carpets — Belgium a Small Country — Cultivated like a 
Garden — Into Germany — Aix-La-Chapelle — Birthplace of Charlemagne — Cap- 
ital of Holy Roman Empire — Cathedral Built by Charlemagne — A Strange 
Legend — Shrine of the Four Relics — A Pulpit Adorned with Ivory and Studded 
with Diamonds — Cologne — Its Inhabitants — Its Perfumery — Its Cathedral — A 
Pdiiderous Bell — A Church Built of Human Bones — Sailing up the Rhine — A 
River of Song — Bonn — Its LTniversity— Birthplace of Beethoven — Feudal 
Lords — The Btoody Rhine — Dragon's Rock — A Combat with a Serpent — A 
•Convent with a Love Story — Empress of the Night — Intoxicated — Coblentz^ 
A Tramp-Trip through Germany — Sixteen Thousand Soldiers Engaged in 
Battle — Enchanted Region — Loreli — -Son-in-Law of Augustus Caesar — Birth- 
place of Gutenberg, the Inventor of Printing. Page, .... 155 

CHAPTER XVII. 

FROM FRANKFORT TO WORMS. 

Frankfort-on-ths-Main — Met at Depot b/ a Committee — Frankfort, the Home 
of Culture and Art — Birthplace of Goethe — -"He Preaches like a God" — 
The Home of Rothchild — A Visit to his House — Worms and its History — 
Lut'^'er and a Bad Diet — Luther Monument — Theses Nailed on the Door — 
Fame of Luther and his Followers more Imperishable than their Bronze. 
Statues. Page, - . 168 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

GERMAN BAPTISTS. 

A Weak Beginning — Persecutions — Firm Faith — Rapid Growth — A Trio of Lead- 
ers — Theological Schools — Publishing House — Hopeful Outlook. Page. 

CHAPTER XIX. 

OUT OF GERMANY INTO SWITZERLAND. 

A Lesson from Nature — Tramp-Trip through the Black Forests — Heidelberg Cas- 
tle — Basil, Switzerland — Met by a Friend — Emigrants off for America — Deliv- 
ering an Address to the Emigrants — The Grave of Erasmus — Gateway to the 
Heart of the Alps — Snowy Peaks — Rendezvous of the Nations — Beautiful 
Scene — Moonlight on the Lake — Sweet Music — Pretty Girls — Mountains 
Shaken with Thunder and Wrapped with Fire. Page, 



CONTENTS. XV 

CHAPTER XX. 

SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 

Alpine Fever — Flags of Truce — Schiller and the Swiss Hero — Tail's Statue and 
Chapel — Ascent of the Rigi— Beautiful Scenery — Famous Falls— Rambles in 
the Mountains — Glaciers — The Matterhorn — Yung Frau — Ascent of Mount 
Blanc- An Eagle in the Clouds— Switzerland and her People — The Oldest Re- 
public in the World—' Home, Sweet Home " — High Living — Land Owners — 
Alpine Folk — Night Spent m a Swiss Chalet— Johnson in Trouble— Walk of 
Six Hundred Miles — Famous Alpine Pass — A Night above the Clouds — Saint 
Bernard Hospice — Overtaken in a Snow-.'itorm— Hunting Dead Men — The 
Alps as a Monument — Geneva — Prison of Chilon — How Time was Spent — 
Tongue of Praise. Page, .,..,.. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN FRANCE. 

Incipiency of the Work — Obstacles to Overcome — Progress — Hopeful Outlook. 
Page, - . 

CHAPTER XXII. 

FROM VIENNA DOWN THE DANUBE TO CONSTANTINOPLE. 

A Black Night on the Black Sea— A Doleful Dirge— Two Thousand Miles — Vienna 
— Its Architecture — Its Palace — Its Art Galleries and Museums — Through 
Hungary, Servia, Slavonia, and Bulgaria — Cities and Scenery along the 
Danube — Products of the Countries — Entering the Bosphorus amid a War of 
the Elements — Between Two Continents — Constantinople — Difficulty with a 
Turkish Official — A Babel of Tongues— The Sultan at Prayer — Twenty Thou- 
sand Soldiers on Guard — Multiplicity of Wives — Man-Slayer. Page, 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ATHENS. 

A stormy Day on Marmora — Sunrise on Mount Olympus — Brusa, the Ancient 
Capital of Turkey — Ancient Troy — Homeric Heroes — Agamemnon's Fleet — - 
Th2 Woodsn Horse — Paul's Vision at Troas — Athens — A Lesson in Greek — 
The Acropolis — The Parthenon — Modern Athens — Temple of Jupiter — The 
Prison of Socrates— The Platform of Demosthenes — Mars Hill and Paul's Ser- 
mon — Influence of the Ancients. Page, ....*. 
CHAPTER XXIV. 

ASIA MINOR AND THE ISLAND OF PATHOS, 

Smyrna — Its Commerce — Its Populaticn — Famed Women — Home of the Apostle 
John — One of the Seven Asiatic Churches — Martyrdom and Tomb of Poly- 
carp — Emblematic Olive Trse— Out into the Interior of Asia Minor — Struck 
by Lightning — Visit to Ephesus — Birthplace of Mythology — Temple of Diana 
— Relics of the Past — Homers Birthplace — A Baptist Preacher and a Pro- 
tracted Meeting — John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary — Timothy's Grave — 
Cave of the Seven Sleepers — Return to Smyrna — Sail to Patmos — Patmos, the 
Exiled Home of the Y\postle John — The Island of Rhodes and the Colossus — 
Death and Disease on the Ship — Quarantined — A Watery Grave — Hope An- 
chored within the Vail. Page, ........ 



XVI CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

FROM BKYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 

Landing at Beyrout — Escape from Death — Thankful Hearts — Seed Planted- 
Desire Springes up — Bud of Hope — Golden Fruit — " By God's Help" — Prepa- 
rations — New Traveling Companions — Employing a Dragoman — A Many- 
Sided Man Required to Make a Successful Traveler — " Equestrian Pilgrims" 
A Great Caravan — Ships of the Desert— Preparations for War — A Dangerous 
Mishap — National Hymn — Journey Begun — Mulberry Trees — Fig-Leaf 
Dresses — An Inspiring Conversation — The Language of Balaam — City of 
Tents - General Rejoicing — Tidings of Sadness — Welcome News — First Night 
in Tents — Sabbath Day's Rest — Johnson and his Grandmother — A Wedding 
Procession — Johnson Delighted — Brides Bought and Sqld — Increase in Price — 
Inferiority of Woman — Multiplicity of Wives — Folding of Tents — Camel 
Pasture — Leave Damascus Road — Noah's Tomb, Eighty-Five Feet Long — 
Perilous i* scent — Brave Woman — " If I Die, Carry Me on to the Top '' — The 
Cedars at Last Emotions Stirred " The Righteous Grow like the Cedars of 
Lebanon " — Amnon. Page, ........ 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

FROM THE CEDARS OF LEBANON TO BAALBEK. 

Returning to Tents — Mountain Spurs and Passes — A Modern Thermopylae — Two 
Caravans Meet — A Fight to the Death — How Johnson Looks — Victory at 
Last^ — Into the Valley where the King Lost his Eyes — Playing at Agriculture 
— Squalid Poverty — Baalbek — Its Mighty Temples — Men, Mice and Monkeys 
— A Poem Writ in Marble. Page, 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

DAMASCUS. 

A Beautiful Valley — Flowing Rivers — Mohammed at Damascus — Garden of God 
— Paul at Damascus — Mohammedan at Prayer — Valley More Beautiful — Dam- 
ascus Exclusively Oriental— Quaint Architecture — "Often in Wooden Houses 
Golden Rooms we Find " — Narrow Streets — Industrious People — Shoe Ba- 
zaars — Manufacturing Silk by hand — Fanatical Merchants — "Christian 
Dogs" — Cabinet-Making — Furniture Inlaid with Pearl — Camel Markets — A 
Progenitor of the Mule — Machinery Unknown — Ignorance Stalks Abroad — 
Fanatical Arabs— A Massacre — The Governor Gives the Signal — Christians 
Killed — French Army — Abraham Our Guide — Brained before Reathing the 
Post-Office — Warned not to Look at the Women — Johnson's Regret — Vailed 
Women — Johnson's Explanation. Page, ...... 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 

Naaman, the Leper — His Visit to Elisha — The Prophet's Command — Naa- 
man Cured — House Turned into a Leper Hospital — Off to the Lepers' 
Den — Origin, History and Nature of Leprosy — Arrival at the Gloomy Prison 
— Abraham, " I Didn't Promise to Go into the Tomb with You '' — "Screw 
your Courage to the Sticking Point" — Johnson s Reply — Suspicious of the Arab 
Gate-Keepers — A Charge to Abraham — Life in Johnson's Hands — Mamie 



CONTENTS. Xvii 

and the Currant-Bush — Among; the Lepers — Judgment Come — Graves Open 
— Living- Corpses — Walking Skeletons — Strewing out Coins — An Indescriba- 
ble Scene — An Indelible Picture — Horrible Dreams. Page, 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 

Sick, nigh unto Death — "Night Bringeth out the Stars'' — Mount Herrnon and 
the Transfiguration — Beautiful Camp-Ground — Amnon, the Reliable — 
"Thou Art Peter" — Fountain of the Jordan — Slaughter of the Buffaloes — 
Crossing into Galilee — Dan — Abraham's Visit — A Fertile Valley — Wooden 
Plow^s — A Bedouin Village —Costumes of Eden — A Gory Field — Sea of Gali- 
lee — Sacred Memories — The Evening Hour — A Soliloquy — Bathing — Sailing — 
Fishing. Page, ........... 

CHAPTER XXX. 

FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH, 

A Seven Hour's Journey — A Rough Road and a Hot Sun — Gazelles — Nimrods of 
Today — Historic Corn-Field — Cana of Galilee — First Miracle — Cana at Pre- 
sent — Greek and Roman Convents— Conflicting Stories of Greek and Latin 
Priests — Explanation — An Important Fact — Marriage Divinely Instituted — 
Woman Degraded — Woman Honored — Description of Nazareth — Childhood 
Home of Jesus — Jesus and the Flower-Gaiden — Studying Nature — He Goes 
to the Mountain Top — Without Bounds or Limits — A Fit Play-Ground and 
Suitable School-Room for the Royal Child — Rock Bluff where the People 
Tried to "Cast him down Headlong ' — The Carpenter Shop — The Virgin's 
Fountain — Nazareth at Present — Protestant Missions — A Short Sermon and 
a Sweet Song. Page, .......... 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

A CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN THE ORIENT. 

Shepherd Tents — Many Flocks in One Sheep-Cote for the Night — Many Merchants 
from Different Countries — Ships Anchored — Arabs at Meal — Arabs Smoking 
— Shepherds with their Reed-Pipes — Merchants' Response — Music and Dan- 
cing at Night — Bustle and Confusion in the Morning — Fight Like Madmen — 
Over-Burdened Camels — Camp Broken up — Dothan and Joseph's Pit — Money- 
Loving Mohammedans— Crafty Jews — Return to Tents — The Shepherds 
Awaken — Crook, Sling and Reed-Pipe — David and Goliath — Shepherds un- 
der the Star-Lit Sky — " Glory to God in the Highest." Page, . 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO, 

A Man ' ' Fell among Thieves " — The Way still Lined with Thieves — Guards 
Necessary — Across the Mount of Olives — Bethany and its Memories- David's 
Flight from Jerusalem — ' ' Halt ! Halt ! " — Seized with Terror — Splendid 
Horsemanship — "A Flard Road to Trabble'' — Inn v, here the Good Samaritan 
Left the Jew — Brigands on the Way -side — Robbers and Guards in Collusion — 
Topography of the Country — Dangers and Difficulties — Perilous Places Pass- 



XVUl CONTENTS. 

ed — Plain of Jericho — Writhing in Agony — The City of Palms — Trumps of 
Joshua — Jericho in the Time of Herod — Iron-Fingered Fate — Jericho at 
Present — A Divine Region — Pool of Moses — Antony and Cleopatra. Page 

CHAPTER XXXni. 

BEYOND THK JORDAN. 

Plain of Moab — Children of Israel — Moses's Request — Moab a Rich Country — 
Lawless Clans — A Traveler Brutally Murdered — A Typical Son of Ishmael — 
Dens and Strongholds — Captured by a Clan of Arabs — Shut up in Mountain 
Caves — ^ Heavy Ransom Exacted — The Moabite Stone — Confirmation of 
Scripture — Machaerus — John the Baptist — Prison Chambers — Character of 
John — How to Gua:;e a Life — Hot-Springs — Herod's Visit — " Smell of Blood 
still " — Mount Nebo — Fine View — Life of Moses — From Egypt to Nebo — An 
Arab Legend — Death of Moses. Page, ...... 

CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE JORDAN 

Two Thoughts — From Nebo to the River — Thrilling Emotions — Historic Ground — 
A Sacred Scene — An Earnest Preacher — Christ Baptized — Awe-Stricken 
People — A Sacred River — Bathing of Pilgrims — Robes Become Shrouds — The 
Ghor of the Jordan — The Valley an Inclined Plane — The Three Sources of 
the River — The Jordan Proper — Banks — Tributaries — Bridges — River Chan- 
nel — Velocity of the Water— Its Temperature — Its Width and Depth — Vegeta- 
tion along the Stream — Wild Beasts — Birds. Page, .... 

CHAPTER XXXV. 

THE DEAD SEA. 

A Wonderful Body of Water — Receives 20,000,000 Cubic Feet of Water per Day 
— Has no Outlet — Never Fills Up — In the Sea — Johnson's Suggestion as to 
my Identity — Why One Cannot Sink^-" Salt Sea" — Caught in a Storm — 
Danger of Death — Dreary Waste — Cea of Fire — JohnEon's Argument — New- 
Born Babe — Child Dies — Lot's Wife — Her Past History and Present Condi- 
tion — The Frenchman's Book — Why the Sea is so Salt — Why it Never Fills 
Up — Sown with Diamonds — Origin of the Dead Sea — God's Wrath — The 
Sodom Apple — The Sea an Emblem of Death Page, 

CHAPTER XXXVI. 

TWO RUSSIAN PILGRIMS, OR A PICTURE OF LIFE. 

A Steep Mountain — Rough Base — Beautiful Summit — Russian Pilgrims — Jour- 
ney up Mountain — Life's Hill — Courage in Heart — Marriage Altar — Long Pil- 
grimage — Star of Hope. Page, 

CHAPTER XXXVII. 

FROM JERUSALEM, VI.A BETHLEHEM AND POOLS OF SOLOMON, TO HEBRON. 

Rachel's Tomb — Bethlehem — Ruth and Boas — David the Shepherd Lad — Cave 
of the Nativity — Pools of Solomon — Royal Gardens — The Home of Abraham — 
Abraham's Oak — Abraham's Mummy. Page, 



CONTENTS. XIX 

CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 

Palestine — Its Situation — Its Dimensions — Its Names — Its Topography — Its Cli- 
mate — Its Seasons — Its Agriculture — Its People — The Pleasure of Traveling 
tnrough Palestine. Page, ......... 

CHAPTER XXXIX. 

JERUSALEM. 

Approaching Jerusaleni — Coming Events — Dreams — Light Breaks In — Serenade 
— Zion, the City of God — Prayers Answered — Gratitude — A Vision of Peace — 
Blighted Fig-Tree — Still a Holy City — Prominence of Jerusalem — Its In- 
fluence among the Nations — A Melted Heart — Tents Pitched^Walk About 
Zion — Situation of the City — Its Walls — Its Gates — Afraid of Christ — Cross- 
ing the Kedron — Tomb of Virgin Mary — Gethsemane — What it Means, What 
it Is, and How it Looks — Superstitious Monks — Jerusalem Viewed from the 
Mount of Olives— Architecture of the City — Prominent Objects — Entering the 
City — Its Streets — Its Population — Jewish Theologues — Remaining Portion 
of Solomon's Temple — '' Wailing Place " of the Jews — Kissing the Wall — 
Weeping Aloud — Fulfillment of Prophecy — Only One Conclusion. Page 

chapte;^ XL. 

JERUSALEM CONTINUED — MOSQUE OF OMAR. 

Haram Area — Its Past and Present — Wall — Gates — Stopped at the Point of Dag- 
gers — Legal Papers and Special Escort — Mosque of Omar — Its Exterior and 
Interior — A Great Rock Within — History and Legends Connected with the 
Rock — Mohammed's Ascent to Heaven — Place of Departed Spirits — Their Res- 
cue — Ark of the Covenant — Golden Key. Page, .... 

CHAPTER XLL 

IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 

Church of the Holy Sepulchre — Peculiar Architecture — Strange Partnership — The 
Centre of the Earth — The Grave of Adam — Unaccountable Superstitions — An 
Underground World — Pool of Siloam — Kedron Va'ley — The Final Jpdgment 
— Tomb of the Kings — Valley of Hinnom — Lower Pool of Gihon — Moloch — 
Gehenna — Upper Pool of Gihon — Calvary — The Savior s Tomb. Page, 

CHAPTER XLII. 

EGYPT. 

Jaffa — Its History and its Orange Orchard— On the Mediterranean — Port Said — 
Suez Canal — The Red Sea— Pharaoh and his Host Swallowed Up — From Suez 
to Cairo — Arabian Nights — Egyptian Jluseum — Royal Mummies — A Look at 
Pharaoh — A Mummy 5,700 Years Old — A Talk with the King — Christmas- 
Day and a Generous Rivalry — Donkey-Boys of Cairo — \^'olves around a 
Helpless Lamb — Johnson on his Knees — Yankee Doodle — The Nile — The 
Prince of Wales — Pyramid in the Distance — Face ti Face with the Pyramid of 
Cheops — Ascending the Pyramid — Going in it — Johnson Cries for Help — The 
Sphinx, and what it is Thinking about. Page, 



XX CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

A BURIED CITY — POMPEII. 

Long Shut Out of Civilization — Four Days in Gehenna — Paul's Experience Coir 
cides with Ours — Dead — Buried —A Stone Against the Door — Raised from, 
the Grave — Under an Italian Sky—" See Naples and Tie" — Off for the Citv 
of the Dead — Knocking for Entrance — Earthquake — Re-Built — Location of 
the City — Boasted Perfection — City Destroyed by a Volcano — Vivid Descrip- 
tion by an Eye-Witness — Rich Field for Excavation — What Has been Found 
— Returns to Get Gold — Poetical Inspiration— Pompeii at Present — Mis- 
taken Dedication. Page, . . . . 
CHAPTER XLIV. 

VESUVIUS IN ACTION. 

As it Looks by Day and by Night — Leaving Naples — First Sight of Vesuvius — 
Description — The Number of Volcanoes — Off to See the Burning Mountain — 
A Nameless Horse — Respect for Age — Refuse Portantina — Mountain of Shot 
— A Dweller in a Cave — A Slimy Serpent for a Companion — Jets of Steam — 
Vulcan's Forge — Exposed to a Horrible Death — Upheavals of Lava — Show- 
ers of Fire — Fiery Fiends — Winged Devils — Tongue of Fire — A Voice of 

Thunder. Page, 

CHAPTER XLV. 

ROME — ANCIENT AND MODEUN. 

The Mother of Empires — Weeps and Will not be Comforted — Nero's Golden 
Palace — Ruined Greatness — Time, the Tomb-Builder — Papal Rome — The 
Last Siege — Self-Congratulations — Better Out-Look — The Seven-Hilled City — • 
Vanity of Vanities — The Pantheon — Nature Slew Him — The Shrine of Alj 

Saints. Page, . . . . , 

CHAPTER XLVI. 

ROME — ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 

A Question Asked — Answer Given — Nature as Teacher — Italians as Pupils — Great 
Artists — The Inferno — The C ardinal in Hell — The Pope s Reply — A Thing of 
Beauty — The Beloved — The Transfiguration— Architecture— Marble Men 
Struggle to Speak — Resplendent Gems. Page, 

CHAPTER XLVII. 

BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN ITALY. 

Why Italy is a Mission-Field — Beginning of the Work — Difficulties — Increase of 
Forces — Growth of Work — Sanguine Expectations. Page, 

CHAPTER XLVIII. 

FROM ROME, VIA FLORENCE TO VENICE. 

Peasants — A Three-Fold Crop — Elba, the Exiled Home of Napoleon — Pisa — 
Leaning Tower — An Odd Burial-Ground — Florence — The Home of Savona- 
rola, Dante, and Michael Angelo — Art Galleries — On to Venice — A Flood — 
Johnson Excited — Storm Raging — Lightening the Ship — Venice, a Water- 
Lily — No Streets but Water— No Carriages but Gondolas — Shylocks. Page 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 



COLORED PLATES. 



The River Jordan, where it is supposed Christ was baptised, 
Vesuvius in Action, . . . . 



Pasfe. 

380 
526 



Palestine — Time of Christ, 



250 



WOOD ENGRAVINGS, PHOTO-ENGRAVINGS, ETC. 



Steel Plate of the Author — 


Frontispiece, 




Clarence P. Johnson, 


. 


. 40 


Burns' Cottage, 




42 


Burns' Monument, 


. 


• 45 


Edinburgh, 


. 


48 


Scott's Monument, 




• 51 


Edinburgh Castle, 


. 


53 


Abbotsford, 


. 


• 76 


Melrose Abbey, 


. 


78 


Newstead Abbey, 




• 94 


Chapel of Henry VII, Westminster Abbey, 


104 


Nelson's Monument, 


. 


. 106 


The House of Parliament, 




109 


The Tower of London, 




112 


St. Paul's Cathedral, 


. 


^^5 


Chas. H. Spurgeon, 




120 


Bunyan's Cottage, 




129 


Edward Parker, 




• 132 


Queen Victoria, 




144 


Windsor Castle, 




146 


The Home of Shakespeare, 


etc., (six pictures,) 


. 148 


Strasburg Cathedral, 




^58 


View on the Rhine, 




164 


Griessbach Falls, 




192 


A Glacier in Switzerland, 




• 197 


Among the Peaks, 




202 


Hospice in the Alps, 




. 208 


Swiss Mountains, 




211 


The Belvidere, Vienna, 




221 


The Danube, . 




224 


Castle on the Danube, 




226 


Constantinople, 




228 


Modern Athens, 




• 231 


The Acropolis, . 




233 


The Parthenon of the Acropolis, 


• 234 


The Acropolis of Athens as it was, 


235 



ILLUSTRATIONS. 

lurkish Lady, 
Island of Patmos, 
Cedars of Lebanon, 
Ruins of Baalbek. 
Damascus, , 
Tombs of the Caliphs, 
Sea of Galilee, 
Palms in Bush Form, 
Priest of the Greek Church, 
Vale and City of Nazareth, 
Interior of a Caravansary, . 
Dancing Girl, 

Snake Charmer, . - . 
Ancient Sheep Fold 
Mt. of Olives, 
An Arab Horseman, 
A Bedouin, 

View on the Road from Jerusalem to Jericho, 
Ford of the Jordan, 
View in the Valley of the Jordan, 
The Dead Sea, 
Lot's Wife, 
Ruth, 

Cave of the Nativity, . , 

Bethlehem, 
Pools of Solomon, 
Mosque of Hebron, 
Government Guards, 
Jerusalem, 

Hills and Walls of Jerusalem, 
Street in Jerusalem, 
Wailing Place of the Jews, 
Mosque of Omar, . 
Solomon's Temple as it was, 
Holy Sepulchre, 
Pool of Siloam, . 
Tombs of the Kings of Judah, 
Burial of Christ, 
An Egyptian, 
Donkey Boys of Cairo, . 
Pyramid and Sphinx, 
Pompeii, Street of Cornelius Rufus, 
Climbing Mt. Vesuvius, 
Colosseum of Rome, 
John H. Eager, 

Baptist Chapel at Pellice, Iialy, 
^ Leaning Tower of Pisa, 



Page. 

243 
247 

263 
274 
278 
290 

3^3 
321 

325 
330 
338 
341 
343 
344 
348 
350 
352 
356 
391 
3.97 
399 
402 

415 
418 
420 
42S 
424 
438 
448 
450 
459 
461 

470 
474 
483 
486 

489 
492 
502 
507 
509 
517 
528 

537 
555 
559 
565 



CHAPTER I. 

OFF FOR NEW YORK. 



Preparations — A Prayer and a Benediction — An Impatient Horse and a Run for 
Eternit • — Strange Sceptre and Despotic Swaj — Beauty in White Robes — 
Approaching the Metropolis — Business Heart of the New World — A Bright 
Face and a Cordial Greeting — An Hour with the President — More for a 
Shilling and Less for a Pound — A Stranger Dies in the Author's Arms — Name- 
sake — Prospects of Becomin:^ a Great Man — A Confused College Student — The 
Hour of Departure — Native Land. 



PREPARATIONS for the trip were completed 
when the week ended. Sunday, with its 
sweet privileges and solemn services, came 
and went. Mother and I knelt and prayed to- 
gether. Rising to our feet, she looked up through 
her tears and smilingly said, "Son, the Lord has 
given me strength to bear the separation. ' Go, 
and 'God be with you till we meet again.'" 

Monday morning, as the hands on the dial plate 
point to seven, Johnson and I seat ourselves in a 
carriage which is drawn by a horse whose path is 
steel, whose heart is fire, and whose speed is light- 
ning. This impatient steed stands champing his 
bit, and when the word is given he starts on his 
long journey. At one bound he leaps the majestic 
river, and on, on he rushes as if he fears eternity 
will come before he reaches his journey's end. 
After traveling only a few hours, we run into a 



24 OFF P^OR NEW YORK. 

blinding snow-storm which reminds us that Winter 
still wields his icy sceptre, and rules with despotic 
sway. This storm continues for hours; in truth, it 
lasts until apparently the whole earth is wrapped 
in a mantle of white, and until the majestic moun- 
tains of Pennsylvania seem to rise up in their vir- 
. gin purity to kiss the vaulted sky. 

Washington, Baltimore, and Philadelphia, as 
seen iq their white robes, are more beautiful than 
ever. Winter's frosty breath has not chilled 
their blood. They are filled with energy and 
throbbing with life. From Philadelphia to New 
York, there is almost one continuous string of cars 
on each track. Along here our fiery steed some- 
times runs sixty miles an hour. 

Long before we reach the metropolis, the shadr 
ows of the sombre evening have shut out the lieht 
of day. As we enter this great city, it looks as if 
a thousand times ten thousand lamps are all trim- 
med and burning. New York is a marvelous city. 

As much time as I have spent here, I never cease 
to wonder at it. Who could walk these streets 
without wonderinof at the miles of oranite buildings, 
all joining each other and towering up from seven 
to twelve and fourteen stories high; at the broad 
side-walks crowded from six o'clock In the morninof 
until ten at night with one ceaseless stream of hu- 
manity; at the people rushing along at a break- 
neck speed, as if they were going to great fires in 
different parts of the city. 

Notwithstandino- the double-tracked elevated 



.OFF FOR NEW YORK. 25 

railway and the double-tracked horse-cars, New 
York can not furnish transportation for the peo- 
ple. She will, I think, soon be compelled to 
arrange for an underground railway — this is a 
necessity. New York is the business heart of the 
New World. Every American loves it. It is 
his pride at home, his boast abroad. 

At Temple Court I receive my mail, and meet 
my friend. Dr. H. L. Morehouse, corresponding 
secretary of the Baptist Home Missionary Soci- 
ety. As usual, his face is bright and his greeting 
cordial. He is planning great things for God, 
and expecting great things of God. Few men 
have done more to honor God and build up the 
Baptist cause in America than Henry L. More- 
house. 

A pleasant hour is spent with Dr. Norvin 
Green, President of the Western Union Tele- 
graph Company. His reminiscences of European 
travel are rehearsed. He says that in London 
one can buy more for a shilling and less for a 
pound than in any other place on earth. Presi- 
dent Green gives me a letter to his European 
representative, and kindly extends other courte- 
sies that are duly appreciated. 

After attending to bankintr business and secur- 
ing our ocean passage, we decide to run over to 
New Haven and spend a few days with some spe- 
cial friends. The double railroad track between 
New York and New Haven is constantly in use. 



26 OFF FOR NEW YORK. 

When about half way between the two cities, our 
engineer spies a handsomely dressed gentleman 
walking on the other track, and going in the same 
direction that we are going. A train is coming 
facing the gentleman. Unconscious of the pres- 
ence of more than one train, he steps from one 
track to the other, just in front of our engine. 
Seeing the danger, both engineers try to stop 
their trains, but do not succeed. Both blow their 
whistles at the same time, but the walker, thinking 
all the noise is made by one train, pays no atten- 
tion. Crash! Our engine strikes the man, and 
throws him twenty feet from the track. The 
trains stop. The passengers gather around the 
unfortunate man. The blood is oozing from his 
ears and nostrils. I take his head on my shoul- 
der and raise him up to get air. He struggles — 
gasps for breath — and all is over. A letter in his 
pocket indicates his name and residence. 

A carriaofe is waitinof for us at New Haven. 
On reaching there, we are driven at once to the 
happy home of Mr. W. G. Shepard, who forthwith 
presents me to Master Walter Whittle Shepard. 
This important character is only twelve months 
old, but is full of life and promise. If he com- 
bines the sweet spirit and graceful manners of his 
mother with the stronpf character and briofht in- 
tellect of his father, I believe he will make a great 
and useful man notwithstanding the fact that he 
bears the author's name. 



OFF FOR NEW YORK. 27 

New Haven, with her one hundred thousand 
souls and great manufacturing interests, with her 
parks and colleges, with her broad streets and 
lordly elms, is one of the prettiest cities on the 
American continent. 

When we retired last night, the snow was fall- 
ing thick and fast; but we awoke this morning to 
find that God had snatched a beautiful Sabbath 
day from the bosom of the storm. 

Mark Twain is in New Haven. In the course 
of a lecture delivered here, he said: "A certain 
college student got the words theological and 
zoological confused — he did not know one from 
the other. In talking to a friend, this collegian 
said: 'There are a great many donkeys in the 
Theological Garden.'" 

My stay in New Haven has been as pleasant 
as a midsummer dream, and seemingly as short 
as a widower's courtship. But we must now re- 
turn to New York. In less than three hours we 
will leave by the State Line, on "The State of 
Indiana," for Glasgow, Scotland. And now that 
the time of my departure has come, I find my- 
self breathing a prayer to God, asking that He 
will direct my course; that He will guide my 
footsteps; that in all my wanderings He will keep 
me from danger and death; that He will finally 
bring me back in health and safety to the land of 
my birth, to the friends of my childhood, to those 
whom I love and who are dearer to me than 



28 OFF FOR NEW YORK. 

life itself. And so may it be. More heartily 
than ever before, I can say: 

" My native country ! thee, 
Land of the noble free, 

Thy name I love : 
I love thy rocks and rills, 
Thy woods and templed hills ; 
My heart with rapture thrills 

Like that above." 



CHAPTER II. 

ON THE HIGH SEAS. 



A Difficulty with the Officers of the Ship — A Parting- Scene — Danger on the At- 
lantic — A Parallel Drawn — 'Liberty Enlightening the World — Life on the Ocean 
Wave — Friends for the Journey — The Ship a Little World — A CloAn and his 
Partner — Birds of a Feather — Whales — Brain Food — Storm at Sea — A Fright- 
ened Preacher — Storm Rages — A Sea of Glory — Richard Himself Again — 
Land in Sight — Scene Described — Historic Castle — Voyage Ended — Two 
Irishmen. 



STEPPING on board the steamship State of 
Indiana, I say to the purser : "Sir, I am from 
the West; I want elbow-room. Can't you 
take away these partitions and turn several of 
these compartments into one.? " He replies : "You 
are nozv from the West, but you will soon h^from 
this ship, unless you keep quiet." From this re- 
mark I see at once that the fellow is a crank, and 
I will either let him have his own way or give him 
a whipping. I choose the former; so we shake 
hands over the bloody chasm — or, I should say, 
over the briny deep. 

I can never forget the scene that takes place at 
the wharf. The hour for departure has arrived. 
Hundreds of people have gathered around the ves- 
sel. As the last bell rings, there is hurrying to 
and fro. Friend leavinor friend ; husband kissino- 
wife ; fathers and dauorhters, mothers and sons. 



30 ON THE HIGH SEAS. 

mingling their tears together, as parents and child- 
ren take their last fond embrace of each other. 
Ah ! There are streaming eyes and heavy hearts. 
As the vessel moves off, one sees the throwing of 
kisses, the waving of hats and handkerchiefs. But 
we are gone. Tear-bedimmed eyes can no longer 
behold the forms of loved ones, I dare say that 
many of these partings will be renewed no more 
on this earth. 

One hazards very little in committing himself 
to the winds and waves of the Atlantic when he is 
on a goodly vessel, wisely planned and skillfully 
put together ; when the sea-captain is faithful and 
experienced, and understands the workings of the 
mariner's compass and the posil:ion of the polar 
star. But my very soul is stirred within me when 
I think of the thousands and tens of thousands who 
are sailing on life's dark and tempestuous ocean 
without a chart or compass ; without a rudder to 
steer or a hand to direct them ; without the light 
from the Star of Bethlehem to guide them over 
the trackless waters to the Haven of Rest. They 
came from nowhere ! They see nothing ahead of 
them save the rock-bound coast of eternity, beset 
with false lio-hts which are luring- them on to the 
breakers of death and the whirlpool of despair. 
From the bottom of my heart do I thank God for 
the "Old Ship of Zion," planned by Divine Wis- 
dom, freighted with immortal souls, guided by the 
Star of Hope, commanded by Jesus Christ, bound 
for the Port of Glory ! 



ON THE HIGH SEAS. 3I 

As we leave New York, the Bartholdi Statue 
on Bedloe's Island is one of the last things we 
behold. This statue has been justly called "the 
wonder of the century," and one feels a national 
pride in the thought that this statue, rising three 
hundred feet in the air, her risfht hand lifting her 
torch on hio-h — that this statue, the wonder of the 
age, is a fit emblem of the country to which it 
belongs — it is Liberty enlightening the world! 

I can not pause here to speak of the deep, 
strange and strong impulses that stir one's soul as 
he sees his native land fade from view. I must, 
instead, proceed to tell the reader something 
about 

" A Life on the ocean wave, 
A home on the roUing deep, 
Where the scattered waters rave 
And the winds their revels keep." 

The first few days, if the sea is calm and quiet, 
and so it is with us, are spent in forming new ac- 
quaintances. No one wants an introduction to 
any one. Everybody is supposed to know every- 
body else. A hearty hand-shake, a friendly look 
of the eye, and you are friends for the journey. 
And I dare say that many who here meet will be 
firm friends for the journey of life. The company 
on board the ship is a little world within itself, 
representing almost every phase of human life, 
from the lowest to the highest. Here a states- 
man, there a philosopher; here a musician, there 



2,2 ON THE HIGH SEAS. / 

an artist. We have one wonderful fellow on 
board, who is here, there, and everywhere. He is 
anything-, everything and nothing. He evidently 
has more life in h'is heels than brains in his head, 
and more folly on his tongue than reverence in 
his heart — a pretended musician, who has decid- 
edly a better voice for eating soup than for sing- 
ing songs. And it comes to 'pass that a certain 
small boy follows the example of this clown, and 
the two together make things lively and thor- 
oughly uncomfortable for the rest of the party. 

Natually enough, after these acquaintances are 
formed, birds of a feather flock together. The 
Rev. Dr. Malcom Mac Vicar, Chancellor of the 
MacMaster University of Toronto, and his highly 
cultivated lady, are among our fellow-passengers 
I first met the Doctor some years ago, when in 
Canada. He is an author of considerable note. 
For twenty-five years previous to his going to 
Canada, he was probably the most conspicuous 
figure in the educational circles of New York 
State. The University over which he is now 
called to preside is a Baptist institution with a 
million dollars endowment. Althouo-h raised to 
high position and crowned with honors. Doctor 
MacVicar is as humble and unassuminof as though 
he were in the lowliest walks of life. Prof. Honey, 
of Yale University, places his wife under my care. 
Mrs. Honey is a lady of lovely character and 
superior attainments. Those whom I have men- 
tioned, together with two physicians from Indiana, 



ON THE HIGH SEAS. 33 

and Rev. Mr. Smith from Canada, form a little 
party somewhat to ourselves, though we try not 
to appear clannish. 

The passengers are occasionally attracted by 
whales, and are much interested in watching them. 
Frequently two or three may be seen following 
the vessel for miles and miles at a time, to get 
such food as may be thrown overboard. Then 
they strike out ahead of us, or to one side, chasing 
each other through the water. These monsters 
of the deep remind me of a former class-mate, 
who was noted more for genial nature than for 
strong intellect. One day, while the class in 
chemistry were reciting, he said: 

"Professor, I understand that fish is good brain- 
food. Is it true? " 

The teacher replied: "Yes, I am disposed to 
think there is some truth in the statement." 

" I am glad to know that, Professor, I am going 
to try it. How much do you think I ought 
to eat ? " 

"Well, Sir," responded the sarcastic professor, 
" I should recommend at least half a dozen 
whales." 

I am sure, however, that when I last saw the 
student in question he had not begun the eating 
of fish. 

The fourth day is stormy and the sea rough. 
The women and children are sick, very sick. The 
men are thoroughly prepared to sympathize with 
them. They all lose their sea-legs. The vessel 



2)A ON THE HIGH SEAS. 

is turned into a hospital. It is realiy amusing to 
hear the different expressions from these afflicted 
sons of Adam. 

One fellow, amid his heaving and straining, 
says: "I am not 'zac'-ly seasick, but my stomach 
hurts me mightily." 

Another, in like condition, says: "If they would 
stop the ship only five minutes I would be all 
rio^ht." 

In the midst of the severest agony, an old gen- 
tleman ejaculates something like this : " I left my 
children and loved ones at home, and I expect to 
return in four months ; but I would stay in 
^ Europe four years, if I knew there would be a 
railroad built across in that time." 

I did not hear this myself, but it is said of one- 
clergyman on board that amid ^he fierceness of 
the storm he became exceedingly uneasy. Wring- 
ing his hands, and approaching the chief offlcer, 
he exclaimed : " O Captain, Captain, is there any 
danger of d-e-a-t-h ? The captain replied : " Would 
that I could give you some encouragement ; but, 
my Reverend Sir, in five minutes we shall all be in 
Heaven." At this, the distressed preacher clasped 
his hands and cried aloud, "God forbid!" A 
United States Minister on board said that any 
^ one who would cross the ocean for pleasure, 
would go to hell for amusement. 

For five days the sea rages, and the vessel rolls 
and labors and groans. Looking out over the 
waters, I see ten thousand hills and mountains. 



ON THE HIGH SEAS. 35 

each crowned with white surf, which in the dis- 
tance looks like meltino^ snow. Between these 
mountains there are deep gorges and broad val- 
leys. A moment later the mountains and valleys 
exchange places. Now on the crest of a wave, 
the vessel is borne high in the air, and now she 
drops into a yawning gulf below, coming down 
first on one side then on the other. Now and 
then she pitches head-foremost, reeling and stag- 
gering like a drunken man. 

But, as usual, calm and quiet follow the storm. 
The sea is now as placid as a lake. The sun is 
going down, apparently to bathe himself in a sea 
of glory. In a few minutes the gleaming stars 
will look down to see their bright faces reflected 
in the water. ' The sick are restored to health, 
the staggering walk is gone, and "Richard is 
himself aeain." 

We were in sight of land almost the whole of 
yesterday. About twilight last evening, we view- 
ed the western coast of "bonnie Scotland." I 
arose at an early hour this morning, to find our 
stately craft smoothly gliding on the placid waters 
of the river Clyde. It is a picture worthy of the 
artist's brush — a scene well calculated to inspire 
every emotion of the poet's soul. 

On the north side of the majestic river, there is 
a sodded plain, broad and unbroken, gradually ris- 
ing from the water's edge. As we view this wood- 
ed landscape o'er, we see, here and there, farm- 
houses, which are as picturesque and beautiful as 



36 ON THE HIGH SEAS. 

they are quaint and old, with the smoke from 
their ivy-covered chimneys coiling up and ascend- 
ing on high like incense from the altar of burnt 
offering. Turning our eyes southward, we behold, 
hard by the stream, a long chain of towering 
mountains, whose gently sloping sides are carpet- 
ed with green grass, and girt around with budding 
trees. The heavy rain-drops on the grass and 
leaves are sparkling in the light of the new-risen 
sun. The mountains are echoing the merry tune 
which comes from the whistling plowman on the 
opposite shore. Now, between these two pros- 
pects, on the broad and unruffled bosom of this 
flowing river, our heavily-laden vessel, as though 
she were weary because of her long journey, 
moves slowly, gracefully, noiselessly, with the stars 
and the stripes proudly streaming from her mast- 
head. Indeed so motionless and queenly is our 
goodly vessel in her onward course, that she is 
apparently standing still while the mountains and 
plains are passing in review before her. 

A little farther up the stream, we see Dumbar- 
ton Castle standing in the river. This historic 
rock measures a mile in circumference, and rises 
three hundred feet above the water. This castle 
was at one time the prison of Sir William Wal- 
lace, and afterwards the stronghold of Robert 
Bruce. From here on to Glasgow the Clyde is 
lined on both sides with iron-foundries and ship- 
building yards. 

The voyage ends at Glasgow. The passengers 



ON THE HIGH SEAS. 37 

are glad once more to press terra firma under 
their feet. I would write something about Glas- 
gow, but I am like the more hopeful one of two 
Irishmen who went to America. Landing- in New 
York, they started up town. They had gone 
only a few paces, when one of them saw a ten 
dollar gold piece lying on the side-walk, and 
stooped to pick it up. The other said : " Oh, 
don't bother to get that little coin ; we will foind 
plenty of pieces larger than that." 



CHAPTER III. 

THE LAND OF BURNS. 



English Railway Coaches — Millionaires, Crowned Heads, and Fools — A Conductor 
Caught on a Cow-catcher — -Last Rose of Summer — Off on Foot to the Land 
of Burns — Appearance of Country and Condition of People — Destination 
Reached — Doctor Whitsitt and Oliver Twist — The Ploughman Poet — His Cot- 
tage — His Relics — His Work and Worth — His Grave and Monument — A 
Broad View of Life. 



1 AROSE this morning at an early hour, and, 
after partaking of a hearty breakfast, I at once 
repair to the Grand Central Depot in Glas- 
gow where, a few minutes later, I seat myself in 
an English railway car. These cars are, of course, 
made on the same general plan as ours, yet they 
are in some respects quite different. The coaches 
are of about the same length as those used in 
America, but not so wide by eighteen inches 
or two feet. Each coach is divided into five 
compartments, each being five and one-half or 
six. feet long. Each of these compartments has 
two doors, one on either side of the car, also two 
seats. Persons occupying these different seats 
must face each other, so one party or the other 
must ride backwards. They have no water or 
other conveniences on the train, as we Ameri- 
cans are accustomed to ; no bell-rope to pull, in 
case of accident; no baggage-checks — each pass- 



THE LAND OF BURNS. 39 

enger must look after his own baggage. As for 
myself, I have no baggage, save what I can carry 
in the car wMth me. They have first, second, and 
third-class compartments, the fare per mile being 
four, three, and two cents respectively. I have ex- 
amined closely, and can not detect one particle of 
difference between the first and second-class com- 
partments, either one being fully as good as our 
first-class car. The English first and second-class 
compartments are slightly superior to the third- 
class. It is a saying among the Europeans that 
only millionaires, soreheads (crowned heads), and 
fools ride first-class. Being neither a millionaire 
nor a crowned head, and, as I am unwilling to be 
classed as a fool, I always take third-class passage. 
I believe in talking, asking questions, and 
exchanging ideas with every man I meet, be he 
high or low, rich or poor. So, while standing at 
the depot this morning, amid a great crowd of 
people, looking at the engines, I remark to a 
pleasant-looking conductor standing near me, thai 
there is quite a difference in the engines used in 
this country and those used in America. He 
wants to know what that difference is. I tell him 
that our engines have cow-catchers before them 
and his has none. " A cow-catcher, " says he, 
"and what is that.'* " I explain to him that a cow- 
catcher is an arrangement fastened on in front of 
the engines to remove obstructions from the 
road, to knock cows from the track, etc. "Ah, 
indeed! We never need those in this ct>untry, 




CLARENCE P. JOHNSON. 



THE LAND OF BURNS. 41 

and can you tell me," he continues, "why we do 
not need them?" "Well, sir," I reply, "I can see 
only one reason." "And what is that, pray?" I 
answer, "It must be, sir, that you do not run fast q 
enough to overtake a cow," This creates quite a 
laugh at the conductor's expense, though none 
seems to enjoy it more heartily than he. Just at 
this moment, the train starts, and I am off for 
Ayr, some forty miles away. 

As I step from the train in Ayr, the hack-driv- 
ers gather around me like bees around the " Last 
Rose of Summer." "Carriage, carriage, sir?" they 
cry. "I'll be glad to show you through the city, 
and take you to Burns' Monument — carriage, 
carriage? " Tipping my hat, I reply, "No, gentle- 
men, I will take a carriage some other time, when q 
I have more leisure. I prefer walking to-day, as 
I am in a great hurry." So, each with a cane in 
his hand and a portmanteau strapped on his back, 
Johnson, my pleasant traveling companion, and I 
set out on foot for "The Land of Burns." 

Luckily, we meet with some intelligent farmers 
who cheerfully give us much valuable information 
about the country. They, in turn, ask many 
questions concerning far-off America. Land in 
this part of Scotland is worth from two hundred 
to three hundred dollars per acre, and the annual 
rent is twenty to twenty-five dollars per acre. 
Most of the land in this country is owned by a few 
"lords" and "nobles," and the "common people" 
are in bondage to them. They are in poverty 



42 



THE LAND OF BURNS, 



and rag3, as might naturally be expected from 
the exorbitant rents which they have to pay. 



"Man's inhumanity to man, 
Makes countless millions mourn. 



The principal crops raised by the farmers of 
this country are wheat, oats, rye, barley and Irish 
potatoes. They grow no Indian corn. They do 
not know what corn-bread is — many of them 
have never heard of it. 




burns' cottage. 

After a walk of an hour and a half through a 
most charming country, we reach our destination. 
I am now sitting in the room where was born 
Robert Burns who, Dr. Whitsitt says, was the 
most important personage that the British Isles 
have produced since the time of Oliver Twist — 
oh, excuse me, I should have said, since the time 
of Oliver Cromwell. I would have had it rieht 



THE LAND OF BURNS. 43 

at first, if that "twist'" had not gotten into my 
mind. This important personage was born 128 
years ago. How long this cottage was standing 
before diat time, we do not know ; but, as you 
may imagine, it is now a rude and antique struc- 
ture. It is built of stone, and the walls are about 
six feet high. It has an old-fashioned straw or 
thatched roof and a stone floor. A hundred 
years ago, this room had only one window. That 
is only eighteen inches square, and is on the back 
side of the house. In the time of Burns, the 
cottage had only two rooms, though some ad- 
ditions have since been made. The entire place 
is now owned by the "Ayr Burns' Monument As- 
sociation," and the original rooms are used only 
as a museum, wherein are collected the furniture, 
books, manuscripts and other relics of the illus- 
trious bard. 

I have, for a long time, been somewhat familiar 
with the history and writings of the "Peasant 
Poet," whose birthplace I now visit, and I have 
often read Carlyle's caustic essay on Burns. I 
have just finished reading his life, written by 
James Currie. I have read, to-day, "The Holy 
Fair," " Tam O'Shanter," "Man Was Made to 
Mourn," and "To Mary, In Heaven," and now, as 
I sit in the room where this Hiorh Priest of Nature 
first saw light, as I sit at the table whereon he 
used to write, and view the relics which once be- 
longed to him, I am carried back for a hundred 
years and made to breathe the atmosphere of the 



44 THE LAND OF BURNS. 

eighteenth century. As I sit within these silent 
walls, a stange feeling comes over me. I hear, or 
seem to hear, the lingering vibrations of that gold- 
en lyre, whose master indeed is dead, but whose 
music still finds a responsive echo in every human 
heart. Robert Burns, the man, was born of a 
woman but Robert Burns, the poet, was born of 
Nature! He stole the thoughts of Nature and 
told them to man. It was believed long ago that 
Burns was the High Priest, the interpreter, of 
Nature, and 

"Time but the impression deeper makes, 
As streams their channels deeper wear." 

The multitudes who hither come, prove by their 
coming that 

"Such graves as his are pilgrim shrines, 
Shrines to code nor creed confined- — 
The Delphic vales, the Palestines — 
The Meccas of the mind." 

Some three hundred yards beyond the cottage, 
we come to the "Burns' Monument," beautifully 
situated on "The braes and banks o' bonnie Doon, 
Tugar's winding stream." A more appropriate 
location could not have been selected for this 
monument, as near by are the "AUoway Kirk," 
the "Wallace Tower," the " Auld Mill," and the 
"Auld Hermit Ayr," and other localities rendered 
famous by the muse of the ploughman poet. I 
stand on the " Brig o' Doon " before reaching the 



46 THE LAND OF BURNS. 

keystone of which Meg, Tarn O'Shanter's mare, 
"left behind her ain grey tail." 

From the top of this towering monument, which 
stands in the midst of a beautiful flower-garden, I 
for once take a "broad view of life." With one 
sweep of the eye, I see the Do on, the Ayr, the 
Clyde, the ocean ! The scene is made more grand 
and inspiring, more picturesque and beautiful, by 
the lakes, plains, hills and mountains which lid 
between, overhang, and tower above, these laugh- 
ing rivers. Ah ! me, how my spirit is stirred ! 
Like Father Ryan, I have thoughts too lofty for 
language to reach. In describing what I now see 
and feel, silence is the most impressive language 
that can be used. Thought is deeper than speech. 
Feeling is deeper than thought. 



CHAPTER IV. 



EDINBURGH. 



A Jolly Party of Americans —Dim-Eyed Pilgrim — Young Goslings — An American 
Goose Ranch — Birthplace of Robert PoUob and Mary Queen of Scots — The 
Boston of Europe — Home of Illustrious Men — A Monument to the Author — 
Monument to Sir Walter Scott — Edinburgh Castle — Murdered and Head 
Placed on the Wall — Cromwell's Siege — Stones of Power — A Dazzling Dia- 
dem — A Golden Collar — Baptized in Blood — Meeting American Friends. 



VE ARE now in Edinburg-h; we have been 
here some days. On our way from Ayr, 
we fell in with a jolly party of American 
gentlemen. The eyes of one grey-haired brother 
in the crowd are somewhat dimmed with age, 
though he is unwilling to acknowledge it. *» 

As the train made a o-raceful curve around a 
mountain, we came into a large, green pasture 
where many sheep were grazing. Now, the peo- 
ple of this country feed their sheep on turnips — 
large, yellow turnips, with the tops cut off. While 
in this pasture, we saw, some seventy-five or a 
hundred yards from the road, a great quantity of 
these turnips scattered over the grass for sheep 
food. The dim-eyed pilgrim spied the yellow ob- 
jects and, pointing to them, he enthusiastically ex- 
claimed : "Oh, what a fine lot of young goslings ! " 
Then he added, " There are the goslings, but 
where are the geese.? " I explained that those 



EDINBURGH. 49 

objects he saw were not "goslings" but turnips, 
and suggested that the goose was on our train. 
Before we separated, the two parties became fast 
friends. We all agreed to throw in and buy our 
friend a farm, to be known, not as a turnip patch, 
but as "-The American Goose Ranch," and on 
this ranch we are to meet the first day of May of 
each year, to discuss vital questions and living 
issues pertaining to the life and character of 
"young goslings." 

Leaving the pasture, we passed the Moorhouse 
farm, where Robert Pollok, author of " The Course 
of Time," was born, in 1798, two years after the 
death of Robert Burns. We came by Linlithgow, 
the birthplace of Queen Mary. The majestic 
ruins of its once proud palace are still standing 
on a green hillside near the town, as if to impress 
the passer-by with the mutability of all human 
greatness and all human grandeur. 

In one hour more we had reached the end of 
our journey. Edinburgh has two hundred and 
fifty thousand inhabitants, just half the number of 
Glasgow, and is a magnificent city. It is the pride 
of every Scotchman. It is called " The Classic 
City," "The Bonnie City," "The Capital City," 
"The Monumental City," and "The Athens of 
Britain." I expected to hear it called " The 
Boston of Europe," but the people did not seem 
to think of it. This was the birthplace of Sir 
Walter Scott, the novelist and poet; the home of 
Hume, the scholar and historian; of John Knox, 



50 EDINBURGH. 

the reformer, who never feared the face of man, 
nor doubted the Word of God ; of Thomas Chal- 
mers, the Astronomical preacher from whose pul- 
pit the stars poured forth a flood of light and 
glory ; and it was for a thousand years the home 
of the Scottish Kings and state officials. It is 
now the political home of Gladstone, who is per- 
haps the greatest living statesman, and the home 
of Drummond, author of "Natural law in the 
Spirit World." 

The city is filled with many objects of peculiar 
interest, only a few of which I will mention. 
About a hundred years ago, though the people 
here speak of it as "recently," the city was greatly 
enlarged, and I suppose the object of the enlarge- 
ment was to make room for the monuments and 
statues. One sees a monument on almost every 
street-corner, and there is a perfect forest of 
statuary. These Scotch people are very fond of 
honoring great men. I am going to leave here 
to-morrow, for fear they put up a monument to 
me. They have not said anything about the 
monument yet, but I notice the police have been 
following me about for two or three days, as 
though they thought of something of that sort. 

On Princess street, in the prettiest and most 
romantic part of the city, stands a colossal monu- 
ment to Sir Walter Scott which was fashioned by 
one of the world's greatest artists, and which is 
said to be one of the most superb structures of 
the kind ever built. I am quite prepared to be- 



EDINBURGH. 



51 



lieve the statement. In this monument architect- 
ural grandeur and artistic 
beauty are blended in the 
sweetest and most perfect 
manner imaginable. Like 
a sunset at sea, it never 
becomes monotonous, 
but is always pleasing. 
A fit emblem 
this of Scott 
himself, in whom 
a strong- char- 
acter was so 
gracefully blend- 
ed with smooth 
and p o 1 i sh ed 
manners. This 
monument may 
be painted, but 
i t beofofars d e- 
scription. 

To me, how- 
ever, the most 
interesting ob- 




ject in Edin- 
burgh is the 
Castle, located 
just In the centre 
of the city. The 
Castle is built on a high rock whose base covers 
an area of eleven acres. This rock rises to a 



scott's monument. 



52 EDINBURGH. 

height of four hundred feet, its summit being 
accessible only in one place, the other portions 
of the rock being very precipitous, and, in some 
places, absolutely perpendicular. The top of the 
rock presents a level surface, has an area of five 
acres, and is surmounted by a massive stone wall 
built close around on the edge of the cliff On 
this storm-beaten rock, and within these moss-cov- 
ered walls, stands the historical Castle, built ten 
centuries ago. In appearance the Castle is "grand, 
gloomy, and peculiar." In his charming poem Mar- 
mion, Scott refers to it thus: 

" Such dusky grandeur clothed the night, 
Where the huge castle holds its state, 
And all the steep slope down ; 

Whose ridgy back heaves to the sky, 
Piled deep and massive, close and high, 
Mine own romantic town ! " 

According to the history of Scotland, which to 
me is as charming as a story of romance, this 
Castle has a strange and bloody tale to tell. 
Here James II was confined, likewise James III. 
Here "The Black Dinner" was ofiven, and the 
Douglasses were murdered. Here the Duke of 
Argyle and the good Montrose were beheaded. 
Montrose, you remember, is a conspicuous figure 
in Scottish history. He was loyal to his king and 
country. He was courageous as a lion, and as 
true and noble as he was brave. Yet he was 
tried before a false court, whose verdict was that 



54 EDINBURGH. 

on the next day he should be put to death, and 
his head placed on the prison wall. When per- 
mitted to reply, Montrose, in his calm and digni- 
fied manner, stepped forward and, with his usual 
boldness, said to the Parliament : " Sirs, you heap 
more honor upon me in having my head placed 
upon the walls of this Castle, for the cause in 
which I die, than if you had this day decreed 
to me a golden statue, or had ordered my picture 
placed in the King's bed-chamber." 

In 1650, Cromwell besieged the Castle, for 
more than two months, without success. This 
was the home of the beautiful Queen Mary at the 
time she gave birth to James VI, since whose 
reign the whole of Great Britain has been ruled 
by one sceptre. 

In what is called "The Crown Room" of the 
Castle, are " The Stones of Power," or the " Em- 
blems of Scottish Royalty." These regalia con- 
sist of three articles, the Crown, the Sceptre, and 
the Sword of State. By a fortunate circumstance, 
I obtain free access to these royal relics. They 
are entirely new to me, hence I examine them 
closely. Thinking perhaps the reader would like 
to know something of an earthly crown before 
going home to wear an Heavenly one, I give the 
following description of this one: The lower part 
is composed of two circles, the undermost much 
broader than that which rises above it. Both are 
made of purest gold. The under and broader 
circle is adorned with twenty-two precious stones. 



EDINBURGH. 55 

such as diamonds, rubies, topazes, amethysts, 
emeralds and sapphires. There is an Oriental 
pearl interposed between each of these stones. 
The smaller circle, which surmounts the larger 
one, is studded with small diamonds and sap- 
phires alternately. From this upper circle two 
imperial arches rise, crossing each other at right 
angles, and closing at the top in a pinnacle of 
burnished gold. 

The Sceptre is a slender and an elegant rod of 
silver, three feet long, gilded with gold and set 
with diamonds. The Sword of State is five feet 
long. The scabbard is made of crimson velvet, 
and is ornamented with beautiful needlework and 
silver. 

In the same glass case with the above-named 
insignia, is a golden collar of the "Order of the 
Garter," which collar is said to be that presented 
by Queen Elizabeth to King James VI when he 
was created Knight of that Order. In the same 
case, is also a ruby ring labeled as the coronation 
ring of Charles I. But enough about 

"The steep and belted rock, 
Where trusted lie the monarchy's last gems — 
The Sceptre, Sword, and Crown that graced the brows, 
Since Father Fungus, of an hundred kings." 

I am having a perfect feast in re-reading the 
"Heart of Midlothian," the plot of which is laid in 
this city. I never had such a thirst for knowl- 
edge, nor did I ever enjoy reading so much as 



56 EDINBURGH. 

now. I make daily visits to the Haymarket, to 
the old Tolbooth, to Holyrood Palace, to Arthur's 
Seat, to the cottage where the Dean family lived, 
and to many places which have been baptized in 
blood, and about which Scott's muse loved to sing. 
While in the Waverly Hotel, a few days ago, 
I chanced to meet Reverends J. K. Pace and W. 
T. Hundly, Baptist preachers from South Caro- 
lina. What a happy meeting! We were together 
only two days. Theirs was a flying trip, and they 
had to rush on to London and the Continent 
without seeing much of "Bonnie Scotland." We 
agree to meet in six weeks in London or Paris. 



CHAPTER V. 

A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 



His Royal Highness and a Demand for Fresh Air — A Boy in his Father's Clothes 
— Among- the Common People — Nature's Stronghold — Treason Found in 
Trust — Body Quartered and Exposed on Iron Spikes — Receiving a Royal Sa- 
lute — Following no Road but a Winding River — Sleeveless Dresses and Dyed 
Hands — Obelisk to a Novelist and Poet — On the Scotch Lakes — Eyes to See 
but See Not — A Night of Rest and a Morning of Surprise^A Terrestrial 
Heaven — A Poetic Inspiration — A Deceptive Mountain — A Glittering Crown — 
Hard to Climb— An Adventure and a Narrow Escape— Johnson Gives Out — 
Put to Bed on the Mountain Side— On and Up — A Summit at Last — Niagara 
Petrified — Overtaken by the Night— Johnson Lost in the Mountains — A Fruit- 
less Search — Bewildered — Exhausted — Sick. 



TfFTER a sojourn of ten days, I left Edinburgh, 
r\ the site of Scottish nobility. While there 
I heard so much of Dukes and Earls, of 
Lords and Nobles, of Her Majesty and His Royal 
Highness, etc., that it became necessary for me to 
seek some mountain peak where I could get a full 
supply of fresh air. If there is such a thing, I 
have a pious contempt for high-sounding titles 
of honor and nobility, and especially when, as is 
too often the case, the appellations themselves 
are of more consequence than the men who wear 
them. A man may indeed have a great naTue 
"thrust upon him," hut greatness itself \s not thus 
attained. I like to see a son inherit his father's 
good qualities, and the more of them the better, 
but as for honors and titles, let him win those for 



5& A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 

himself. I sa.w a " Duke " the other day who 
reminded me of a half-grown boy on the streets 
wearing his father's worn-out pants and coat and 
hat. 

Well, as I started out to say, I became so 
nauseated with these inherited, worn-out, loose- 
fitting titles of nobility that I determined to leave 
the rendezvous of "honor," and get out into the 
country among the common people. Accordingly 
I left Edinburgh, a week ago to-day, for an 
extended tramp-trip through the Highlands. I 
came first by rail, via Glasgow, to Dunbarton, a 
ship-building town of 13,000 inhabitants, on the 
river Clyde. Thence, a pleasant walk of three 
miles brought me to Dunbarton Castle, which I 
saw from the steamer as we were coming from 
America, and which was barely mentioned in a 
previous chapter. " This Castle, " says the Scot- 
tish historian, "is one of the strongest in Europe, 
if not in the world. " It is, as before stated, a 
great moss-covered rock, standing in the river, 
measuring a mile in circumference, and rising 
nearly three hundred feet high. In the first 
century of the Christian era, the Romans gained 
possession of, and fortified themselves in, this 
Castle. By the treachery of John Monmouth, 
Sir William Wallace, while on this rock, was 
betrayed, in 1305, into the hands of the British, 
who took him to London and struck off his head, 
after which his body was quartered and exposed 
upon spikes of iron on London Bridge. Along 



A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 59 

two-handed sword, once used by Wallace, and 
other ancient relics of warfare, are shown to the 
visitor. 

From the top of the Castle, one gets a com- 
manding view of the surrounding country. While 
there, looking northward, I saw Ben Lomond, 
more than twenty miles away. I could not re- 
frain from taking off my hat to this "Mountain 
Monarch." And, as if to return my salute, the 
clouds just then were lifted, leaving the snow- 
covered head of the mountain bare for a moment. 
For this act of civility, I determined to pay His 
Royal Highness a visit. Hence, with felt hats 
pulled down over our eyes, with canes in hand, 
and small leather satchels strapped across our 
backs, my traveling companion and I set out on 
foot for the Highlands. 

We followed no road, being guided by the 
river only, which flows from Loch Lomond into 
the Clyde. The general scenery along this route 
is nothing unusual; but the river itself is surpass- 
ingly beautiful, its water being transparent, and 
flowing deep, smooth and swift, but silent, between 
its level oreen banks. 

Just before entering a small town, on the river, 
called Renton, we met hundreds of girls and young 
women homeward bound, all wearing sleeveless 
dresses, and carrying tin buckets. Their dyed 
hands and arms bespoke their occupation. They 
were factory girls, employed in the paint works 
the largest in Scotland. In this town, is a 



6o A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 

splendid obelisk to Tobias Smollet, the novelist 
and poet, who was born here in 1721. 

By eight o'clock we reached a wayside inn, 
where a few shillings secured us comfortable ac- 
commodations. Next morning was dark and 
cloudy. A few hours' walk found us at the head 
of Loch Lomond, where we took shipping on the 
neat little steamer, "Prince Consort." We had 
several tourists, artists, poets, musicians, and other 
persons of taste and culture, on board, all of 
whom, like ourselves, had come to see and enjoy 
"Bonnie Scotland." But the clouds were so dark 
and low, the mist so dense and heavy, that we 
could see little or nothing of the beauty and 
grandeur by which we were surrounded. Before 
nightfall, though the whole day seemed almost 
like night, "The Prince" touched at a landing 
called Tarbet, where we disembarked and secured 
lodging. The day was damp, cold and dark; 
everything around us wore a gloomy aspect. We 
were tired. We could see nothintr to interest the 
mind or delight the eye. So Morpheus soon 
claimed us as his captives for the night. But, ere 
those nocfurnal hours passed away, God's own 
hand removed the clouds and curtains which, 
the day before, hid the works of Nature from 
our view. 

Next morning, the sound of the clock striking 
eight disturbed the "spirit of my dreams." The 
reader can better imagine, than I can describe, my 
feelings when I arose and looked around me. I 



A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 6 1 

found that it was a warm, bright, beautiful spring 
morning, and that I was in the loveliest spot on 
earth. I was in the midst of a large flower- 
garden, laid out with great care and excellent 
taste, containing a fine variety of shrubbery and 
a rich profusion of delicate and fragrant flowers. 
Behind me was a range of mountains, high and 
lifted up, extending also to the right hand and to 
the left, leaving the flower-garden just in a grace- 
ful curve of the mountain chain. Before me, and 
toward the east, was Loch Lomond, the Queen of 
the Highland Lakes. Her waters were clear as 
crystal, and her bosom was unruffled by a single 
wave, there being just motion enough upon the 
mirror-like surface to cause the sunbeams falling 
upon the water to glisten like a sea of sparkling 
diamonds. 

Across the Loch, and just one mile away, was 
Ben Lomond, the lordliest mountain in all Scot- 
land — the same that returned my salute from 
Dunbarton Castle. While the foot of this majes- 
tic mountain was washed by the waters of the 
lake, its brow was wrapped in the snow of winter 
and bathed in the clouds of heaven. Thus the 
beautiful lake is surrounded by 

"Mountains that like giants stand ' 

To sentinel the enchanted land." 

And each towering crag and cliff and mountain 
peak was seen reflected in the silver mirror lying 
at their feet. 



62 A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 

In addition to all these attractions, that morn- 
ing when I awoke it seemed as if all the birds of 
the country, with their merry voices and bright 
plumage, had assembled to hold their spring car- 
nival. One of their number was unlike any of 
the feathered tribe I had seen before. It had a 
dove-colored breast; night and morning were 
delicately interwoven in its wings, and it sang "as 
if every tiny bone in its body were a golden 
flute." A good old lady living there told me that 
when Dr. Thomas Chalmers stood where I was 
standing that morning, and saw and heard what 
then greeted my eyes and ears, he exclaimed: "I 
wonder if there will be such scenery and music as 
this in heaven ! " 

Ah! this is Scotland, "Bonnie Scotland," whose 
picturesque scenery has waked the harp of so 
many bards, and has often set the artist's eye "in 
fine frenzy rolling." I am not surprised that the 
mantle of poesy fell upon Burns while following 
the plow; my only wonder is that all Scotchmen 
are not poets. In fact, when I awoke that morn- 
ing and found myself in that terrestrial heaven, I 
did not know what was the matter with me. 
There was a fluttering underneath my ribs. It 
was a deep and strong, yet a pleasing an'd delight- 
ful sensation. I thought it was a poet's soul in 
me! Rushing to the desk with hair uncombed, I 
arranged my stationery, and sat with pen in hand 
waiting for the light to break in upon me — but — 



A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 6 



v) 



but — the spell passed off before I could get hold 
of the first rhyme. What a pity! 

After being here a short time, Johnson and I 
decide to take a trip through the mountains and 
visit Loch Long, a few miles west. We are not 
at all disappointed when we arrive at the Loch. 
The scenery is wild, savage, grand ! Beyond the 
lake, or loch, we see the Cobbler, a towering 
mountain, covered with snow. The mountain is 
apparently not far off, seemingly about two hours' 
walk. Now this, the Cobbler, is not the highest 
mountain in Scotland, but is said to be the hard- 
est one in the whole country to climb. 

Not knowing the difficulty of our undertaking, 
we determine to plant our feet in the snow glitter- 
ing upon the Cobbler's crown. We are almost 
exhausted when we reach the base, but, after 
resting a few minutes, I say: "Johnson, renew 
your strength, and let us go." For awhile the 
ascent is comparatively easy ; but we soon come 
to great walls of black rock, rough and steep, 
some places being almost perpendicular. We try 
to go around the worst places, determining, how- 
ever, that when we come to a rock which we can 
not go around, we will go over it. This we 
manage to do by the assistance of the grass and 
twigs growing in the crevices of the rock, but the 
climbing is exceedingly difficult and tiresome, and 
often dangerous. One time in particular my es- 
cape is narrow. I am standing on a narrow shelf 
of rock. Below me is a yawning chasm, some 



64 A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 

sixty feet deep. Above is a wall almost straight 
up and down, eighteen feet high. With dire ap- 
prehensions I start up. When about two-thirds 
of the way up, a bush, whose fastenings in the 
crevice of the rock are not as strong as I thought, 
o-ives way with me. Down I come on the narrow 
rock-shelf, and almost into the chasm below. For 
some minutes I am unable to move, though I am 
worse frightened than injured. Johnson excitedly 
calls out: " Whittle, Whittle, are you hurt?" I 
reply, "No, I am like a cat — always catch on foot. 
Besides, 'A man's greatness consists not in his 
never falling, but in always rising after a fall.'" 

The day before this memorable tramp, a heavy 
rain had fallen and the grass, with which many 
parts of the mountain are covered, is very wet, 
hence our feet are soon as wet as water can make 
them. Under these difficulties, we have not got- 
ten more than two-thirds of the way up the moun- 
tain, before my companion, who, like a mountain 
goat, loves to climb, gives out completely. He 
has neither the strength to go to the top, nor the 
spirit to start down. Rest is the only hope. So, 
with two overcoats for a pallet, a round stone for 
a pillow, and the blue sky for a covering, I put 
Johnson to bed, and he is to sleep while I am to 
continue my journey to the top of the mountain, 
and hasten back with some snow for dinner. 

The summit is more distant, and the way more 
difficult and perilous, than we had supposed. 
However, I have started to the top, and I am de- 



A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 65 

termined to go there, "if it takes all the summer." 
And I -do. But in order to accomplish my pur- 
pose I must go around and approach the long- 
sought brow from the opposite side. I reach the 
very top! And, although my trembling limbs are 
so weak and weary that I can scarcely stand, yet 
I feel fully repaid for all my toil. The snow 
under my feet is five feet deep. About a half 
mile beyond me is another mountain towering- up 
apparently a thousand feet above me, and covered 
with snow from head to foot. It looks frightful; 
and almost unwittingly I exclaim: "Niagara pet- 
rified! A mountain of snow falling from the 
clouds! " The sight is grand, but I can not pro- 
long my stay, for obvious reasons. I am wet with 
perspiration, and, having left my overcoat with 
Johnson, I am now suffering — the cold and cut- 
ting wind pierces to the bone; and besides night 
is comine on. 

Now a new trouble begins. I can not find 
Johnson. I do not know on which side of the 
mountain I left him. I have no idea as to where 
he is ! But the worst of all is that Johnson, after 
sleeping three hours, wakens, and, as I have not 
returned, becomes uneasy about me.. He supposes 
that I have either gotten into the snow and can 
not get out, or have fallen over some precipice 
and hurt or killed myself. So he, out of the 
goodness of his heart, sets out in search of me. 
Each hunts for the other until night without 
success. Fortunately, however, we agreed in the 



66 A TRAMP-TRIP THROUGH THE HIGHLANDS. 

morning on a place to spend the night. On 
reaching the place agreed upon, I find that he is 
not there — nor has he been seen ! While I am 
making preparations to go back, with assistance, 
to hunt for him the door flies open and in steps 
Johnson, completely exhausted, and sick besides. 
Thus ends our first day among the mountains! 



CHAPTER VI. 

A GENERAL VIEW OF SCOTLAND. 



Highlands and Lowlands — Locked up for Fifteen Days — The Need of a Good 
Sole — A Soft Side of a Rock — The Charm of Reading; on the Spot — A 
Fearful Experience — Bit and Bridle — Thunder-Riven — Volcanic Eruption — 
Dangerous Pits — An Hundred-Eyed Devil — Gloomy Dens — Meeting an Ene- 
my — Eyes Like Balls of Fire — Voice Like Rolling Thunder — A Speedy De- 
parture — Leaping from Rock to Rock — Silver Thread among the Mountains — 
Imperishable Tablets — The Cave of Rob Roy and the Land of the McGreg- 
ors — Lady of the Lake and Ellen's Isle — Lodging with Peasants and with 
Gentlemen — Rising in Mutiny — Strange Fuel — Character of Scotch People — 
Scotch Baptists — Sunrise at Two O'Clock in the Morning. 



SCOTLAND, as the reader knows, is a small 
country. Its length from north to south is 
two hundred miles, but east and west the 
country is very narrow, no part of it being more 
than forty miles from the sea-coast. This small 
area is divided into what are known as the "Hiofh- 
lands" and "Lowlands," the two sections being as^ 
unlike in the nature of the soil, the character of 
the scenery, the habits and industries of the peo- 
ple, as though they were a thousand miles apart. 
To the historian and tourist the Highlands, oc- 
cupying the northern, or rather the northwestern, 
portion of Scotland, is by far the most interesting 
section. The term. Highlands, however, does not, 
as many people think, designate a broad, level, 
elevated table-land. On the contrary, the High- 
lands of Scotland are a wild, savage world by 



68 A GENERAL VIEW OF SCOTLAND. 

themselves, composed entirely of hills, morasses, 
mountains, glens, moors, lakes and rivers. 

For the last fifteen days, I have been in the 
heart of this enchanted land, locked, as it were, in 
this rock-ribbed region. I have spent the time 
in walking through the country; rowing on the 
lochs, or lakes; .climbing mountains; threading 
glens; exploring caves; talking to the people of 
high and low degree, thus gaining information of 
every kind and character, both as to the past and 
present condition of this wild country and its 
poverty-stricken people. Hard work this. A 
man walking through the mountains needs a good 
sole (soul) — spell it as you please. To me, 
however, the work (I can not call it by any other 
name half so appropriate) has been as pleasant 
as it has been difficult, and as profitable as both 
combined. When I become very tired, and that 
is no infrequent occurrence, I spread myself out 
on the soft side of some projecting rock, high on 
the mountain side, and there, while resting, I 
alternately feast my eager eyes on the outstretch- 
ing landscape, or read from books which I have 
along for that purpose. I read the "History of 
Scotland," "Heart of Midlothian," "Rob Roy," 
"The Lady of the Lake," "The Lay of the Last 
Minstrel," and "Marmion." hi this way I have 
read much of the history, poetry, and fiction of 
Scotland while on the spot, or in the immediate 
neighborhood about which it was written. It 
lends a new charm and gives an additional zest 



A GENERAL VIEW OF SCOTLAND. 69 

to what one reads, when he can lift his eyes from 
the book and behold the places and objects men- 
tioned in its glowing pages. 

I can never forget- my experience of a week ago 
to-day. I was up at an early hour. The sky was 
cloudless and the morn calm and quiet. Across 
the lake stood Ben Lomond in its giant-like pro- 
portions. Its brow, grey with eternal snow, looked 
so invitino- that I determined to ascend and sniff 
the mountain breeze. A friend, where I spent 
the night, and who knew the difficulties in the 
way, tried to dissuade me from my purpose; but 
when I take the bit between my teeth there is no 
bridle that can stop me. Johnson, who by this 
time had thoroughly recovered from his maiden 
effort at climbing mountains, and who is as fleet 
as a hart and spirited as a gazelle, agreed to 
accompany me. So, ere the warbler had finished 
his morning song, and while the dew was yet 
sparkling bright on the heath, we set out for that 
towering peak, "where snow and sunshine alone 
have dared to tread." 

For sixpence, a farmer's lad rowed us across 
the loch, landing us at the foot of the mountain 
whose rocky cliffs and thunder-riven sides we 
were to climb. Seven hours' toil brought us to 
the objective point, and rewarded us with one of 
the finest, wildest, and most romantic views to be 
had anywhere this side that deep and yawning 
gulf which separates time from eternity. I found 
myself surrounded by a thousand peaks, crags 



70 A GENERAL VIEW OF SCOTLAND. 

and cliffs, whose heads were white with the accum- 
ulated snows of fifty winters, they being of differ- 
ent heights, tcud of every conceivable shape, size 
and angle — all having been caused, apparently, by 
the upheaval of some mighty volcanic eruption of 
the under world. These iron-belted mountain 
sides are honey-combed with deep and dark dens^ 
dangerous, pits and caves, which once furnished 
shelter and security to those savage and lawless 
clans whose sole occupation was arms, and who, 
under cover of night, often swooped down upon 
the barns, flocks and herds of the Lowlanders like 
eagles upon their prey. When once hidden away 
in those dark recesses, it would take an hundred- 
eyed devil to discover their whereabouts; and, if- 
discovered, it would require an iron-handed Her- 
cules to rout and discomfit them. 

Many of these peaks and cliffs are separated 
only by narrow and gloomy glens hundreds of feet 
deep. The glen may be ten, fifteen, or twenty-five 
feet wide at the bottom, but the rough and irre- 
gular sides tower up so high, and come so near 
closing at the top, that the rocky chiism is dark 
and gloomy. I have, I think, very little super- 
stition about me; yet I confess that while walking 
through these silent halls, where the sun has never 
shone, I felt half inclined to look around me for 
hissing serpents,- for hobgoblins and rats. While 
in one of these unseemingly — I had almost said 
unearthly — places, a dreamy, far-away spell came 
over me. I fell into an absent-minded mood. 



A GENERAl, VIEW OF SCOTLAND. 71 

Just as I reached a dark, horrible-looking place, 
I paused. I stood still, my eyes resting upon the 
stone floor; I was thinking about — I do not know 
what. All at once I heard a furious noise; and, 
turning suddenly around, I beheld a huge wildcat 
rushing down the glen, with eyes glaring like 
balls of fire. By this time he was within five feet 
of me, and gave the most unearthly yell that I 
have ever heard. It seemed as if it would rend 
the very rocks. Every hair on my head was a 
goose-quill, and they were all on ends. For a 
moment I was still as death, and pulseless as 
a statue, while the noise that startled me was 
rolling, ringing, and reverberating down the glen 
like the mutterings of distant thunder. As John 
Bunyan would say, " I departed, and was seen 
there no more." 

Having gotten out of the glen, I went back 
upon Ben Lomond and enjoyed the picture. I 
said it was a grand sight, and so it was. Turn 
my eyes as I would, I could see mountain streams 
fed by melting snow, the water being churned into 
madness as it leaped from rock to rock, until it 
was lost in the abyss below. Looking beneath 
me, I could see several of the Scottish lakes, 
which were as beautiful as the mountains were 
grand. I saw Loch Lomond, on whose calm 
bosom many islands float, winding around like a 
silver thread among the mountains for twenty 
miles. 

All this made a picture that I can never forget 



72 A GENERAL VIEW OF SCOTLAND. 

It is indelibly stamped on the imperishable tab- 
lets of memory ; and there it will remain, an 
object of interest and admiration, until the flood- 
gates of life are shut in eternal rest. 

We visited Rob Roy's cave, the land of the 
Macgregors, the house in which Helen Macgregor 
was born. Loch Katrine where Scott wrote "The 
Lady of the Lake," and many other places known 
to history and to song. 

Johnson and I found no difficulty in walking 
twelve to twenty miles a day. We sometimes 
obtained lodgings with peasants, and at others 
with "gentlemen," or landlords. The peasants 
call themselves " servants," and always speak of 
the landlord as "master," This nomenclature is . 
suggestive of the real relationship existing be- 
tween the two classes. It is none other than that 
of master and slave. These peasants are still 
plodding along in the same old grooves whose 
rough edges wore their fathers out. Many of 
them, like the dumb ass in the tread-mill, expect 
only their bread, and verily they are not disap- 
pointed. I almost wonder that the very stones 
in the streets do not rise in mutiny, and clamor 
for justice until their cry is heard by the dull ears 
of power. 

While walking from Loch Lomond to Loch 
Katrine, I saw several peasants spading up the 
ground. They had dug several holes, each large 
enough to swallow a good-sized house. The dirt 
was taken out in square blocks, much the size of 



A GENERAL VIEW OF SCOTLAND. '] ^i 

three bricks put side by side, or about the shape 
of a Mexican adobe. In appearance, these blocks 
resembled soft, sticky, black prairie mud. Seeing 
them spread out to dry, I thought they were to 
be used as building material. Upon making in- 
quiry, I found that it (the dirt) was preparing for 
fire-wood. The peasants call it moss. They dry 
it and stack it, as we stack fodder or oats. They 
say it burns well. 

The Scotch people, as a whole, have impressed 
me very favorably. They have a straightforward 
way of doing business. Almost every face wears 
on it the stamp of genuine honesty. The better 
classes of people are social, kind and accommo- 
datinpf in their nature, though somewhat stiff and 
dio-nified in their bearing-. 

Religiously, most Scotchmen are Presbyterians 
in belief and devout in spirit. \ hey are no 
people for innovations or change, even though 
the new be superior to the old. I would as soon 
undertake to turn the Amazon from its wonted 
channel as to swerve these Scotch people from 
their fixed modes of thought and habits of life. 
As the boy said of his father's horse that would 
go no farther, they are "established." 

Just twenty years ago, the main body of our 
Baptist people of this country formed what is 
known as the "Baptist Union of Scotland." They 
now have eighty-five churches and ten thousand 
members. Though few in number, they expect, 
like Gideon's band of old, to come off conquerors 



74 A GENERAL VIEW OF SCOTLAND. 

at last. All the Baptist ministers whom I have 
chanced to meet have received me into their con- 
fidence, into their homes and families. They 
have extended to me every act of kindness and of 
courtesy that I could ask or wish. 

In a month from now, the people of Scotland 
will have very little night. In the latter part of 
June they have twilight until eleven o'clock, and 
the sun rises about two o'clock in the morning. 
It is now almost ten o'clock at night, and I can 
see to write without artificial light, and the moon 
is not shinine. 



CHAPTER VII. 

FROM DUNDEE TO MANCHESTER. 



Scotch Presbyterians in Convention — Their Character and Bearing — On the Foot- 
path to Abbotsford — The Home of Scott — Five Miles through the Fields — 
Melrose Abbey and the Heart of Bruce — Hospitality of a Baptist Preacher — 
Adieu to Scotland — Merry England — Manchester — Exposition and Prince 
of Wales — Manchester and Cotton Manufacturers — A $25,000,000 Scheme — 
Dr. Alexander Maclaren — His Appearance — The Force of his Thought — The 
Witchery of his Eloquence — His Hospitality Enjoyed — A Promise Made. 



T^ HAVING Dundee^ I run down to Edinburgh 
I \ to attend the annual meeting of the estab- 
lished church of Scotland. I am anxious to 
see this venerable body of men, whose deep-toned 
piety has pervaded the nation, and who wield such 
a powerful influence over the political and relig- 
ious thought of the century. Whether around 
the family fireside; or on the public platform, most 
of these men are dienified, stiff and formal in their 
bearing. I can but think that if they were put 
under the water, the starch would be taken out of 
them, and they would be more useful to the world. 
I say to a friend that if I had only a little Baptist 
water and Methodist fire, I could get up enough 
steam in half an hour to set the whole convention 
in motion. 

We set out on Friday for the home of Sir Wal- 
ter Scott, some thirty miles distant. One hour 
brines us to Gallashields. Here we leave our 



76 FROM DUNDEE TO MANCHESTER. 

baggage and take the foot-path leading along the 
banks of the river Tweed and terminating at Ab- 
botsford. The day is fine. The scenery is not 
grand, but varied and beautiful. The pedestrians 
are so engaged in contemplating the beauties of 
nature, that the walk of five miles seems rather to 
rest than to tire them. 










ABBOTTSFORD. 



Abbotsford is situated upon a hillside about 
two hundred yards from the river. Between the 
house and the stream there are two high terraces, 
making two distinct flower-gardens, one being 
some twenty feet higher than the other. The 
house is large and quaint and old. It is always 
open to visitors, and daily many enter its portals. 
One feels as if he would like to remain here a 



FROM DUNDEE TO MANCHESTER. ^^ 

week, examining the clothes, furniture, books, 
manuscripts and curiosities once belonging to 
the lord of letters and of language. Here one 
sees locks of hair from the heads of the Duke of 
Wellinofton and Lord Nelson. Here one sees 
the bones of many Christian martyrs ; also guns 
pistols, swords, shot, shells, canteens, and other 
relics of interest, gathered from the field of Wa- 
terloo by Scott himself. 

But we must not linger here. I want the reader 
to go with me to Melrose. It is only five or six 
miles, and I am sure we shall enjoy the walk, as 
our winding path leads through fields, sheep-pas- 
tures, and grassy meadows. It will be sport for 
us to jump the fences, jump the ditches and bab- 
bling brooks. We will take dinner as we sit be- 
side the second stream, whose limpid water will 
fill our glasses. 

Now that we have reached Melrose, let us go 
at once to the old Abbey, and view that ruined 
pile in which repose the body of Douglass and 
the heart of Bruce, and around which the bard of 
Abbotsford loved to linger. This old church, or 
abbey, which for hundreds and hundreds of years 
resounded with the songs and prayers of monks 
and Catholic priests, was demolished by the Pro- 
testants in the time of the Reformation, and now 
serves only as the dwelling-place of blind bats 
and hooting owls. After spending three hours in 
and around the Abbey, and regretting that we 
cannot linger three days, we leave, feeling that we 



78 



FROM DUNDEE TO MANCHESTER. 



can fully appreciate, and heartily adopt the senti- 
ment expressed in the second canto of "The Lay 
of the Last Minstrel:" 




MELROSE ABBEY. 



" If thou wouldst view fair Melrose aright. 
Go visit it by the pale moonlight; 
And, home returning, soothly swear, 
Was never seen so sad and fair," 



FROM DUNDEE TO MANCHESTER. 79 

We now retrace our steps toward Gallashields ; 
and, on reaching there, are met by the Rev. 
Mr. Thompson, a Baptist preacher, who takes 
us to his house, and treats us so kindly that 
I really regret my inability to accept his kind 
invitation to remain until Sunday and preach for 
him. 

I sincerely regret that my stay in Scotland has 
ended. I am loath to leave. I have walked two 
hundred and fifty or three hundred miles through 
the Highlands. I have viewed the whole country 
through a veil of poesy which the hands of Scott 
and Burns have thrown over it. To me, it is in- 
deed "Bonnie Scotland;" and in leaving- it I can 
but say : 

" Farewell to the land where the clouds love to rtst, 
Like the shroud of the dead on the mountains' cold breast ; 
To the cataracts' roar, where the eagles reply, 
And the lakes their broad bosoms expand to the sky." 

The night passes; morning comes. The day is 
bright and beautiful, I now bid adieu to bonnie 
Scotland, and set my face, for the first time, 
toward merry England. It is Saturday. Hence, 
I go direct to Manchester, so as to be there on 
Sunday. Manchester has almost a million inhab- 
itants. It is the greatest cotton-manufacturing 
city in the world. The great English Exposition 
was opened in Manchester by the Prince and 
Princess of Wales, a few davs ag^o, and will not 
close for some weeks yet. I have attended ex- 



8o FROM DUNDEE TO MANCHESTER. 

hibitions in New Orleans, Atlanta, Louisville, 
Washington City, Philadelphia and Boston, and 
the main difference between an American exposi- 
tion and an English one is that in America we 
make a specialty of fruits, seeds, agricultural pro- 
ducts and implements, fine wood, valuable timbers, 
gold and silver ore, etc., while in England the 
specialties are emblems of royalty, relics of anti- 
quity, and products of the loom and spindle. 

The manufacturers of Manchester know much 
more about cotton than do Southern planters in 
the United States. They know each spring how 
much cotton is planted. They study carefully 
the crop prospects. They have approximately 
correct ideas as to what the yield will be. They 
then estimate the demand, and calculate the price. 
Most of these men manufacture goods to-order. 
When one buys a thousand bales of cotton, he 
knows exactly how much money it will cost to 
work it up, how much goods it will turn out, 
how much waste there will be, and how much 
profit he is to reap. The people here say that the 
speculators of New York frequently buy up 
great quantities of cotton and hold it for better 
prices. To counteract this, a paper is addressed 
to the cotton manufacturers of England, and cir- 
culated through the country. Those signing this 
petition agree thereby to run their factories only 
half the time until the next cotton crop is put on 
the market. 

The enterprising people of Manchester have 



FROM DUNDEE TO MANCHESTER. 51 

inaugurated a scheme by which they will be en- 
abled to greatly reduce the price of their goods, 
and at the same time realize greater profits for 
themselves. It now costs them as much to send 
their goods by rail to Liverpool, a distance of 
thirty-six miles, as it does to get them from 
Liverpool to New York. The new scheme is to 
cut a canal from Liverpool to Manchester, 
through which the great sea-going vessels can 
come up to Manchester and be loaded from the 
factories. For this purpose, $25,000,000 have 
been raised. Work on the canal was begfun 
some time ago, and will be pushed most vigor- 
ously. It will be the broadest and deepest canal 
in the world. 

To me, however, the object of greatest interest 
in the city is Dr. Alexander Maclaren, who is 
regarded by many competent judges as the great- 
est living preacher. Six volumes of his sermons 
grace the shelves of my library. My knowledge 
of his personal history, and my familiarity with his 
style of thought, make me all the more anxious 
to see and hear the man whose eloquence sways 
the multitude as the wind turns the grass of the 
field. 

Little before eleven o'clock on Sunday morning, 
I enter the elegant Union Chapel, wherein are 
seated some 2,500 to 3,000 persons. The preach- 
er soon enters the pulpit. He is somewhat under 
medium size, measuring perhaps five feet and 
seven inches in height, and weiehinor I imagfine, 



82 FROM DUNDEE TO MANCHESTER. 

about one hundred and twenty-eight pounds. 
His iron-grey hair is somewhat long, is combed 
straight back, and parted in tlie middle. His 
forehead is high and broad, and projects far over 
the large blue eyes which are set deep back in his 
head. His mouth is small; his features are hard 
and dry. He reminds me much of the late 
Jefferson Davis and Dr. Henson. 

His prayer is but the overflowing of a large 
heart filled with love. The text is Matthew 3:16. 
For fifty minutes the multitude is spellbound. 
Dr. Maclaren's speaking corresponds with Dr. 
Henson's definition of eloquence — it is logic set on 
fij'e. The most striking peculiarity of his style is 
the force with which he projects his words. As 
was said of Henry Clay, each word has positive 
weight. As I hear the man speaking, and feel 
the force of his utterances, I am impelled to say: 
'This is naught else than the artillery of heaven 
besieging the citadel of the soul!" The thoughts 
are projected with such dynamitic force that 
resistance is impossible — every barrier is soon 
broken down, then every projectile burns its way 
into the soul. His words have in them scorpion- 
stings — they arouse an accusing conscience. 
Then a change comes over the spell of his preach- 
ing He says: "You now see how poor a thing is 
man; how corrupt his heart; how wicked his 
thoughts; how vile his deeds! So turn away 
from self, and look to that Christ upon whom the 



FROM DUNDEE TO M AIS'CHES'l ER. 83 

Spirit descended, and of whom God said, 'This is 
my Son,'" 

I accept the Doctor's invitation to call on him 
in the afternoon. He is desirous that the Bap- 
tists on the two sides of the Atlantic should know 
each other better — that there should be a closer 
bond of union and sympathy between them. He 
is as pleasant at home as he is forcible in the 
pulpit. I promise to go with him to a Baptist 
Association, about which we shall speak in the 
next chapter. 



CHAPTER VIII. 



BAPTIST CENTENNIAL. 



Three Baptist Associations — Centennial Year and Jubilee Year — Baptists Seen at 
their Best — Doctor Alexander Maclaren — Matchless Eloquence — Hon. John 
Bright Delivers an Address — Boundless Enthusiasm — English Hospitality — 
A Home with the Mayor. 



THE Yorkshire, Lancashire and Cheshire Bap- 
tist Association are now holding a joint 
meeting in this city of Rochdale. The 
Yorkshire Association was organized in 1787, and 
covered at that time all the territory that is now 
embraced within the three Associations above 
named, the division having occurred by common 
consent in 1837. This is therefore the centennial 
year for the Yorkshire, and the semi-centennial 
year for the Lancashire and Cheshire Associations. 
This is also the English Jubilee year, being the 
fiftieth year of the reign of Queen Victoria. Hence 
this meeting is called "The Baptist Centennial 
and Jubilee Celebration." It is said to be the 
grandest Baptist meeting ever held in England. 
It represents the brains and culture of our denom- 
ination in this country. 

They are more formal in their methods of con- 
ducting the business of the body than is customary 
among American Baptists. The program is made 



BAPTIST CENTENNIAL. 85 

out and printed beforehand. The speeches are 
all "cut and dried." The moderator asks a parti- 
cular man to make a certain motion, and then 
specifies another one and asks him to second the 
motion. The present meeting is mainly taken up 
with historical and biographical discussions. 

As a rule, the delegates are men of fine natural 
powers and scholarly attainments. Most of them 
are fluent speakers, though very few of their 
number can be called eloquent or even forcible. 
It is natural that on this occasion the speakers 
should indulge freely in self gratulations. They 
are proud of their history, and especially of their 
ancestors who made their history. And well they 
may be. Their ancestors were men of backbone, 
of nerve and stamina! Unlike many men of the 
present day, they believe something I Their con- 
victions were deep, strong, pungent! Their con- 
victions were strong enough to lead them to the 
stake. And then they had the courage of their 
convictions. They were not ashamed to let the 
world know what they believed. 

In some respects, I regard the present Baptists 
of England as unworthy sons of their distinguish- 
ed ancestors. They boast of their progress, of 
their broad sympathies, and liberal views ; that 
they have gotten away from the bones of theology 
to the gospel of Christ ; that they no longer preach 
of God's avenging wrath, but rather of His forgiv- 
ing mercy. These English Baptists are good men, 
and they preach the gospel as far as they go; but 



86 BAPTIST CENTENNIAL. 

they do not go far enough. Jehovah is a God of 
justice as well as of mercy. A body of theology 
without bones is as useless as a human body with- 
out bones. They seem to be sadly lacking in that 
deep, heart-felt conviction, and in that sturdy, lion- 
like courao-e which immortalized their forefathers. 
They have wellnigh ceased to preach our dis- 
tinctive doctrines as Baptists, and God, I believe, 
as a consequence, is withholding His blessings 
from them. Within the bounds of these three 
Associations, live more than one-fourth of the 
population of England, and yet the Associations 
report only 34,000 members. A church may be- 
lieve and practice whatever she pleases as to com- 
munion (and other things too, I suppose), and 
still secure or retain membership in any of these 
Associations. 

The leading features of the meeting are as fol- 
lows : An address on " Reminiscences of Associa- 
tional Teachers in 1837," by Rev. John Aldis; the 
Centennial Sermon, by Dr. Alexander Maclaren, 
and an address on "Sunday Schools," by the 
Right Hon. John Bright, Member of Parliament. 

Mr. Aldis is a remarkable man. He has been 
in the ministry sixty years, and still retains much 
of the strength and enthusiasm of youth. Posses- 
sing such splendid gifts, and having been so long 
connected with the Associations, there is no man 
living better able to perform the task assigned to 
him than the venerable John Aldis. The address 
is a model of condensation. The speaker was al- 



BAPTIST CENTENNIAL. " 87 

most as laconic as the tramp who called, late one 
evening, at a country residence, and said to the 
lady of the house : " Madam, will you please give 
me a drink of water? I am so hungry I don't 
know where I am going to sleep to-night." I 
wonder that one can say so much in so short a 
time. There is scarcely a superfluous word from 
beginning to end. It is marked, too, by great 
literary excellence, and contains some delightful 
bits of character sketches. 

Doctor Maclaren is at his best. I doubt 
whether he ever preached a better sermon than 
the one he delivers at this meeting. He warns 
his brethren that there is danger ahead, that false 
theories are creeping into their creeds, that it will 
never do to cut loose from the "old moorings." 
He says in substance: " Brethren, the cold winds 
from the icy caves of Socinianism are chilling our 
blood and benumbinor our limbs. We boast of 
becoming liberal-minded and broad. We should 
not forget, however, that broad streams are shal- 
low, and that narrow ones are deep. Their cur- 
rents are apt to be sv;ift enough to cut up the 
mud and wash out the riff-raff from the channel, 
leaving a smooth, solid rock bed. God's Word 
may lead us into deep water, but it will never 
leave us without a solid foundation. There is 
such a thino- as beinof broader than wise, and 
wiser than eood." For more than an hour his 
audience of three thousand persons is under his 
magic power. At times they are breathless. The 



88 BAPTIST CENTENNIAL. 

Doctor plays upon the fibres of men's hearts like 
a skillful musician upon the strings of his harp. 
He strikes any chord — every chord — he pleases. 
The audience can neither resist laughter nor 
suppress tears. Every heart is pierced by the 
orator's fiery glance, and thrilled by his matchless 
eloquence. As Goethe said of Herder, "He 
preaches like a God." 

The enthusiasm of the meeting reaches its 
zenith Wednesday afternoon, when the Right 
Hon. John Bright delivers an address on "Sun- 
day-schools." The excitement is simply intense. 
One round of applause follows another until the 
very walls of the building are made to ring with 
glad huzzas. Then those who can not gain en- 
trance to the immense hall take up the cry, and 
send it ringing through the streets of the city. 
The excitement really becomes painful. Mr. 
Bright is quite old and feeble — his head is white 
as cotton, still he is a perfect master of assem- 
blies. As an orator, he is much after the style 
of the late Brooklyn divine. 

One touching incident must be related. Mr. 
Bright stands before the audience motionless, un- 
til silence is restored. He then calls Mr. Aldis to 
him. As the two venerable men stand side by 
side facing the audience, with their hands on each 
other's shoulders, Mr. Bright relates the following 
incident: "I first met Mr. Aldis fifty-four years 
ago. We were then just entering upon the duties 
of life. On the day of our meeting, each of us 



BAPTIST CENTENNIAL. 89 

delivered an address to a large assembly. Mr. Al- 
dis was my senior. He spoke first, and I second. 
After the speaking was over, he took me to one 
side. He said that he saw in me powers that 
should be developed. He told me how to develop 
those powers. In a word, he lectured me on 
public speaking. This, ladies and gentlemen, was 
my first and last lesson in elocution." Then, 
turning to his old teacher, he continued: "Mr. 
Aldis, if I have accomplished anything in life, and 
especially as a public speaker, it is due, at least in 
part, to your kindly counsels. We met first fifty- 
four years ago; this is our second meeting; our 
third will be in Heaven." 

The meeting has just closed. It was an une^ 
quivocal success. The arrangements were simply 
perfect. No weak plank was put in the platform. 
Every speaker was true and tried, and everything 
passed off with an eclat that is pleasing to con- 
template. A daily paper, in speaking of the 
meeting, says: "The Baptists were seen at their 
best, and they are justly proud that it was a very 
good best." 

These English Baptists have been exceedingly 
kind and courteous to me. I was entertained by 
Hon. John S. Hudson, Mayor of the city. It 
seemed that Mr, Hudson and family could not do 
enough for their American guest. Their kindness 
will never be forgotten. 



CHAPTER IX. 

A SOJOURN IN ENGLAND AND ON TO WALES. 



Arrested and Imprisoned — Released without a Trial — Nottingham — Dwellers in 
Caves — Seven Hundred Years Old — forests of Ivanhoe and Robin Hood — 
Birthplace of Henry Kirk White — Home of the Pilgrim Fathers — Home of 
Thomas Cranmer — A Guide's Information — Home of Lord Byron — Wild 
Beasts from the Dark Continent — A Sad Epitaph — Byron's Grave — A Wed- 
ding Scene — Marriage Customs — Wales and Sea-Bathing — Among the Moun- 
tains — Welsh Baptists — A Tottering Establishment. 



TJ FTER attending the Baptist Centennial at 
/j[ Rochdale, I turn my face toward the east, 
Nottingham being the objective point. Four 
hours bring me to my journey's end, and the 
reader can scarcely imagine my feelings when, as 
I step off the train at Nottingham, I am arrested 
by a sturdy Scotchman. I say to him : "Sir, what 
does this mean;* If you seek for some criminal, 
some culprit who has violated the laws of the land, 
you have caught the wrong bird. I am a loyal 
citizen of the United States of America. I have 
the necessary papers from government officials to 
prove what I say. I was never accused of an 
ungentlemanly or illegal act in America, and since 
coming to England I have behaved myself; I 
have kept good company; I have respected your 
Queen and obeyed the laws of your country." 

Although I am as composed as a judge, and 
notwithstanding the fact that my words ring out 



A SOJOURN IN ENGLAND AND ON TO WALES, 9I 

like the notes of a silver bell, my speech falls flat. 
The Scotchman declares that it is entirely un- 
necessary for me to say another word ; that I am 
his prisoner; that I shall be locked up, but shall 
not be maltreated ; that I shall be dealt with fairly, 
and, if innocent, released in due time. Strange 
feelings come over me as I am led captive through 
the crowded streets of this busy city to be locked 
within the gloomy prison-walls of a foreign coun- 
try. Fortunately, however, the darkest hour is 
just before day. We have not gone far, when the 
Scotchman throws off the mask and reveals him- 
self as my bosom friend, and fellow-countryman, 
George Robert Cairns, who is well-known and 
much beloved from Ohio to California, and who 
has sung and preached his way into the hearts of 
thousands of the Scotch and English people. The 
prison to which he is conducting me proves to be 
one of the most pleasant and elegant homes in 
the city. Hence, I feel that I can say with David, 
"Thou hast turned my mournino- into dancine; 
thou hast put off my sackcloth and girded me 
with gladness." 

Nottingham is one of the oldest and most his- 
toric cities in all England. It is splendidly situ- 
ated on the banks of the river Trent in the midst 
of one of the prettiest and most romantic regions 
of country anywhere to be found in Her Majesty's 
Kingdom. The word "Nottingham" signifies 
"dwellers in caves," a name given to the town on 
account of its early inhabitants dwelling in caves 



92 A SOJOURN IN ENGLAND AND ON TO WALES. 

and subterranean passages cut in the yielding 
rock on which the present city is built. These 
caves and caverns are still open, and it affords me 
curious pleasure, with lantern in hand, to wandec 
through their dark recesses. 

In one of the noted forests by which the town 
is surrounded, stands a large and venerable oak- 
tree, more than seven hundred years old, with a 
wagon road cut through it. These are the lordly 
forests described in Ivanhoe — the same, also, 
where Robin Hood held high carnival. 

This is the birthplace of Henry Kirk White, 
whose poetical talents brought him into promi- 
nence long before he reached man's estate. The 
bud was plucked before the flower was full-blown. 
Brief, bright and glorious was his young career. 
An ardent admirer from the Western world has 
placed a beautiful marble tablet to his memory 
in one of the halls of Cambridge Universi-ty. 
Many of the Pilgrim Fathers left for America 
from this town and shire. 

I was at the birthplace and home of Thomas 
Cranmer, who, in 1656, perished at the stake for 
the cause of Christ. The enthusiastic guide who 
is but temporarily of the Archbishop's palace 
pointed to Cranmer's portrait and said: "This is 
a picture of Mr. Cranberry, a Scottish king, who^ 
in 1009, was condemned for heresy and shot by 
order of Pharaoh." The traveler who believes 
all that the guides tell him will soon be thor- 



A SOJOURN IN ENGLAND AND ON TO WALES. 93 

oughly convinced that Moses was the grandson 
of Julius Caesar. 

I know not when I have enjoyed anything more 
than a day spent at Newstead Abbey, the home of 
Lord Byron, whose faults we cannot forget, but 
whose genius we must acknowledge, and whose 
poetry we cannot fail to admire. The Abbey is 
now the property of Capt. F, W. Webb, who spent 
many years with Livingstone and Stanley in their 
African explorations. In turn, Livingstone and 
Stanley used to spend much time with Captain 
Webb in his elegant home. Many of the spacious 
rooms and long winding halls of the Abbey are 
filled with stuffed lions, tigers, bears, wolves, pan- 
thers, serpents, and fowls brought by these men 
from the Dark Continent. The Abbey itself is 
about eight hundred years old. It stands in the 
midst of a great forest, nine miles north of Not- 
tingham, and is surrounded by lovely flower-gar- 
dens, sparkling fountains, and artificial lakes. 
Here the poet wrote "Hours of Idleness." I was 
sad when I saw the splendid marble monument 
which the fond master had erected to his faithful 
dog. The epitaph closes with these melancholy 
words : 

"Ye, who perchance behold this simple urn, 
Pass on — it honors none you wish to mourn : 
To mark a Mend's remains, these stones arise ; 
I never knew but one — and here he lies." 

From the' Abbey I went to Hucknall, three 



A SOJOURN IN ENGLAND AND ON TO "WALES. 95 

miles away, to see the grave of the poet, who lies 
buried in a church just in front of the pulpit. 
The marble slab covering the grave forms a part 
of the floor, and on it are these words: 

" BENEATH THIS STONE RESTS THE REMAINS OF LORD BYRON." 

On either side of the pulpit, also, there is a 
marble slab imbedded in the wall, filled with in- 
scriptions pertaining to the life and character of 
him who. while living, struck chords in the hu- 
man heart which will continue to vibrate until the 
sands of time shall have been removed into the 
ocean of eternity. I must now quit the dead, and 
say something about the living. I must leave the 
grave, and take my stand beside the altar. 

At eleven o'clock to-day, Mr. George Robert 
Cairns, of the United States, and Miss Annie 
Mellors, of Nottingham, England, were united in 
the holy bonds of matrimony. On three succes- 
sive Sundays previous to the wedding, according 
to the requirements of law, the engagement was 
publicly announced at churches, and the question, 
"Does any one present object to the proposed 
marriage.?" was asked. It is the custom of the 
country for engagements to be made public as 
soon as marriage contracts have been entered 
into. The young people thus engaged are at once 
recognized as members of each other's family. 
Mr. Cairns' evangelistic labors have been greatly 
blest. Through his instumentality many, both in 
Europe and America, have found Him of whom 



96 A SOJOURN IN ENGLAND AND ON TO WALES. 

Moses and the prophets did write. And now 
that the Lord has blest him with one of the most 
lovely and accomplished Christian women in 
England, I feel sure ^is usefulness will be greatly 
increased, if not doubled. 

From Nottingham we came to Wales. We 
have been here several days, bathing in the sea, 
walking along the white pebbled beach, strolling 
through grassy meadows, gathering wild flowers, 
climbing wooded hills, and scaling rugged moun- 
tains. When weariness overtakes the pedestrians, 
they seat themselves on the shady side of some 
towerino- crag- or cliff, whose shadow falls lone 
and deep across the hill. Here they hold close 
communion with Nature and sweet converse with 
God. The pilgrims discover God's power in the 
lofty mountains, see His beauty in the blushing 
rose, behold His glory and splendor in the setting 
sun "vast mirrored on the sea." These rocky 
coasts, mountain peaks, and waterfalls have in- 
spired many a poet's muse. Here Tennyson loves 
to linaer. Here Mrs. Hemans sang- her sweetest 
songs. Here Jonhson and I roam and read. 

" And this our life, exempt from public haunt, 
Finds tongues in trees, books in running brooks, 
Sermons in stones and good in everything." 

The Baptists are numerically strong and wield 
a powerful influence in Wales. They are close 
communionists. They are loyal to their princi- 
ples and to their God; consequently, they are 



A SOJOURN IN ENGLAND AND ON TO WALES. 97 

being wonderfully blest — they are flourishing like 
the green bay-tree. 

The Episcopal Church is fast losing ground in 
this country. The people are crying out against 
the tithe system, and are calling for dis-establish- 
ment. This once proud structure is tottering. 
Many predict a speedy fall; and, if it falls at all, I 
believe the crash will be heavy enough to jar and 
injure the foundation of the established church 
throughout the empire. I say it kindly and in 
the right spirit: I hope that the Episcopal Church 
will be dis-established. If it be of man, it oueht 
to fall. If it be of God, it needs no human 
government to support it. If a church be of God, 
its devotees need to look to Him, and not to the 
State, for strength. The lack of o-overnmental 
support never yet stopped the work of saving 
souls. Against Christ's Church, neither the pow- 
ers of earth nor the gates of hell can prevail! 

"Truth crushed to earth shall rise again : 
The eternal years of God are hers ; 
But Error, wounded, writhes with pain, 
And dies among his worshippers." 



CHAPTER X. 



I, O N D O N 



Entering London — The Great City Crowded — Six Million Five Hundred Thousand 
People Together — Lost in London — A Human Niagara — A Policeman and 
a Lockup — The Jubil-ee and the Golden Wedding — " God Save the Queen." 
and God Save the People — Amid England's Shouts and Ireland's Groans 
Heard. 



1 ENTER London for the first time on Saturday 
at 8 p. M. It is with the greatest difficulty 
that I obtain lodging. I am turned away 
from several hotels, boarding-houses, and private 
homes. I can not get even a cot, or blankets, to 
make a pallet on the floor. I continue to press 
my suit, however, and finally secure good accom- 
modations with a private family. 

Why all this difficulty.^ It arises from the fact 
that this is the week set apart for London and 
the surrounding country to celebrate the Queen's 
Jubilee, this being the fiftieth year of her reign. 
For some days the streets have been absolutely 
crowded with visitors. It is said that there are 
more people here now than ever before. It is a 
difficult matter, I am sure, for one who has never 
been here to realize what this means. 

London occupies a good part of four counties, 
covering an area of one hundred and twenty-five 
square miles. This area is traversed by 7,400 



LONDON. 99 

streets which, if laid end to end, would form a 
great thoroughfare, eighty feet wide, reaching from 
London to New York. And yet these streets are 
far too few, too narrow, and too short, to accom- 
modate the six and a half millions of people 
who are now crowded into the city to attend the 
Jubilee. There are, in London, more Scotchmen 
than in Edinburgh; more Irish than in Dublin; 
more Jews than in Palestine; more Catholics than 
in Rome. 1 here are more people in London 
to-day than live in New York, Philadelphia, Chi- 
cago, Boston, Cincinnati, Louisville, New Orleans, 
St. Louis, Kansas City and San Francisco all 
combined. There are more than half as many 
people here as live in Mexico, and more than one- 
tenth as many as inhabit the whole of the United 
States of America. 

Monday morning, at ten o'clock, I started out, 
like Bayard Taylor, with the determination to lose 
myself in this great city, and I hope that it will 
not be considered egotistic in me to say that I 
was eminently successful. Indeed, I have never 
been more successful in any of my undertakings 
than in the effort to lose myself in London. I 
wandered through the streets for hours and hours, 
going up and down, to the right and left, across, 
zigzag, and every other way, paying no attention 
whatever to the direction in which I was going, or 
to the distance that I had traveled. Johnson and 
I were soon separated from each other. I was 
alone, all alone ! Who can describe that lonely 



lOO LONDON. 

and woe-begone feeling which comes over one as 
he, for the first time, winds his way through the 
great crowd that constantly throngs the streets of 
0) the world's metropolis ! A lonely, desolate, mis- 
erable, and depressing feeling takes hold of your 
spirit. You cannot shake it off. After walking 
until your weary limbs can scarcely support you, 
you sit down upon some curb-stone, or door-step, 
to rest, to meditate, to dream. Your head turns 
dizzy as you sit there and watch that human Ni- 
agara dashing by you ! In vain, you scan the 
care-worn faces of the passers-by for a familiar 
countenance. You can only comfort yourself with 
this consoling thought: "I know as many of them 
as they do of me." Ah ! who knows — who can 
know — that mixed multitude.'' Who can tell 
whether courage or cowardice, whether hope or 
fear, whether virtue or vice, whether joy or sor- 
row, whether peace or strife, most rules the heart? 
One man in the crowd continually thinks of the 
the low, the mean, the vile, and is himself corrupt 
and vicious. Another has pure thoughts and 
lofty aspirations; he has an eye for the beautiful; 
he loves the true, and longs to be good. 

Here is a demon of darkness, whose heart is 
black with the crimes of last night — yea, with the 
accumulated crimes of a life-time. His conscience 
is dead. He would now like to stifle the courage, 
to throttle the hope, and stab the virtue of others. 
There is a good Samaritan whose acts are acts of 
kindness, and whose deeds are deeds of charity. 



LONDON. lOI 

He is in the world, but not of the world. He is a 
stranger. He is a pilgrim. His citizenship is in 
Heaven ! 

For several hours I watched the passing throng, 
and read their thoughts as best I could. At 
length I came to myself. I felt as if I had been 
dreaming. I found that it was seven o'clock in 
the evening. I discovered that I was lost! I did 
not know where I was. I scarcely knew who I 
was, or whence I came. I had forgotten the 
name and place of my room. I walked on, going 
I knew not where. The sun set in the east. 
Water ran up stream. I found that I had not 
been wise, but otherwise. My pockets had been 
searched. My money-purse was gone; fortunate- 
ly, however, it was almost empty. I had very little 
small change, and nothing to make it out of. 
Eight o'clock came, then eight thirty — things were 
getting desperate! I sought a policeman, and 
asked him to help me find myself. Without any 
reluctance whatever, he took charge of me. He 
told me to follow him. I did so; and, just as the 
clock struck ten, the key turned, I heard the 
bolt slam, and found myself locked for the night 
within — my own room. This ended my first day 
on the streets of London. 

Tuesday is the Jubilee Day, the day of the 
Golden Wedding, the day when Queen Victoria 
and her people are to be married a second time, 
after having lived together for fifty years as 
sovereign and subjects. God favors us with what 



I02 LONDON. 

the people here call "Queen's weather," a perfect 
day. The morning is bright, the sky cloudless; 
the air is pure, and the breeze refreshing. John- 
son and I leave home early, and reach Trafalgar 
square before seven o'clock in order to secure a 
good position from which to see what promises 
to be one of the greatest royal processions ever 
witnessed. Although we are on the scene early, 
thousands and tens of thousands of people have 
preceded us. Some came at two o'clock in the 
morning that they might secure favorable posi- 
tions. Many paid from ten to one hundred dol- 
lars for seats. Fortune smiles on Johnson and 
me. We obtain good vantage-ground, the only 
charee beino- " longr standing." 

By nine o'clock, the route along which the pro- 
cession is to pass is the most thickly populated 
part of the globe that I have yet seen. The broad 
sidewalks and streets are a solid m.ass of human- 
ity. The large parks, sometimes covering acres, 
are filled with men, women and children, packed 
to suffocation. The streets, steps, verandas, win- 
dows, and house-tops are all filled. At 9:30, all 
are driven out of the streets proper, crowded 
back on the sidewalks, into the lanes, by-ways, 
open squares, and public parks along the route. 
Persons on the opposite sidewalks face each 
other. Just in front of the crowd, close back to 
the curb-stone on either side, stands a line of 
large, able-bodied policemen, shoulder to shoul- 



LONDON. 103 

der, elbow to elbow, the two lines facing each 
other. 

In front of the police force, is a line of armed 
infantry, standing at "attention," with fixed bayo- 
nets. Still in front of these, is stationed a line 
of cavalrymen, all splendidly dressed and well 
mounted. Each has a gun and a pistol buckled 
to his saddle, and a o-litterinof sabre in his hand. 
Thus the whole route, extending for miles and 
miles, is flanked on either side by three columns 
of armed men. Buntings of every color, and the 
flags of all nations, are fl.uttering in the breeze. 
The richest floral designs that art can fashion, or 
that money can purchase, adorn the way. The 
route is lined from end to end with wealth, beauty, 
and chivalry of the English Isles. See! Far in 
the distance the royal trumpeters are coming, on 
black chargers, flourishing their golden trumpets, 
and shouting to the expectant multitude, "The 
Queen is coming!" The shout is taken up and 
repeated by a thousand times a thousand voices: 
"The Queen is comiine! The Oueen is coming!" 
The enthusiastic cries come rolling down the 
avenue like waves on the ocean. It strikes the 
fibres of every heart. The electric current flashes 
along the whole line — every man feels the shock. 
The welkin rings with deafening cheers. 

The procession itself defies description. It 
consists of some fifty or sixty regal carriages all 
filled with royal personages — kings, queens, and 
crown princes. Each carriage is drawn by four — 




CHAPEL OF HENRV VII, WESTMINSTER ABBEY, 



104 



LONDON. 105 

some of them by eight — large horses wearing- 
silver-mounted harness. Each carriage is attend- 
ed by thirty life-guards, well mounted, and armed 
^o the teeth. The Queen's escort consists of 
thirty royal princes. The procession passes on 
to Westminster Abbey, and there, in the presence 
of the congregated royalty of earth, Victoria is 
crowned Queen of England and of India, after 
having been fifty years a sovereign. 

Every civilized nation under heaven has con- 
tributed to the pageantry of this occasion. For 
the last half century, Victoria has been weaving 
for herself a crown which the nations of the earth 
do this day rejoice to place upon her brow. She 
has magnified her office. Is she jealous.? it is of 
her honor. Is she ambitious.? it is for the glory 
of her country. Is she proud.? it is of what her 
people have accomplished. Is she mighty.? it is 
to succor the oppressed. She is exalted, yet 
humble; dignified, yet courteous; a sovereign, yet 
a willing subject of the lowly Nazarene. Eliza- 
beth is called England's greatest queen ; but 
Victoria is, unquestionably, her best. And, 

"Howe'er it be, it seems to me 
' Tis only noble to be good. 
Kind hearts are more than coronets, 
And simple faith than Norman blood." 

The Victorian era will be known to posterity as 
"the golden period of English history." Victoria 
has been a mother to her children and a bene- 



io6 



LONDON. 



factor to her people. She has developed her 
country, advanced the arts and sciences, and 
founded hospitals and asylums. May the good 




Queen live long to rule righteously, to glorify 
motherhood, and adorn her palace with Christian 
virtues. And may the angel of peace long guard 
her realms ! 



CHAPTER XI. 



SIGHTS OF LONDON. 



Traveling in London — London a Studio — The Hum of Folly and the Sleep of 
Traffic — Five Million Heads in Nightcaps — Too Many People Together — Sur- 
vival of the Fittest — Place and Pride — Poverty and Penury — Beneficence in 
London — East End — Assembly Hall — A Converted Brewer — His Great Work 
— Meeting an Old Schoolmate. 



THE man who comes to London and is driven 
around in a hansom, or a carriage, as most 
tourists are, and sees only the museums and P 
art galleries, the botanical and zoological gardens, 
the monuments and statues, the costly cathedrals q 

and splendid temples, the lordly mansions and the 
superb palaces, of the city, leaves with a false, im- ^ 
perfect, distorted, and one-sided idea of the place. 
I would advise no man to come here, and leave, 
without visiting Westminister Abbey and the 
Houses of Parliament, without going to St. Paul's 
Cathedral, to the Tower, and a dozen other places 
of general interest, "where travelers do most con- 
ofrepfate." These thincrs one should see, as a 
matter of course, but other things should not be 
left unseen. 

I love to study architecture, art and literature; 
I love to study poetry and science; but, above all, 
I love to study 77'ian. 

Some years ago, I saw a gentleman in Queen's 



I08 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 

College, Toronto, Canada, who received a good 
salary from the government to study cat-fish. 
Men spend many years and much money In study- 
ing birds. And is not one fish sold for a penny, 
and two sparrows for a farthing? Man is of more 
value than many fishes and sparrows. Then, why 
not study m.an.r' Nor is it enough to study men 
individually; but we must study them collectively 
as well. And, for this collective study of mankind, 
there is no better place to be found anywhere 
V beneath the shining stars than the city of London. 

As I sit alone in my room to-night, my con- 
science hurting me for disobeying the counsels of 
a devoted mother in keeping this late hour, and 
look down upon the "life circulation" of the city, 
I realize that it is true sublimity to dwell here. 
" I am listening to the stifled hum of midnight, 
when traffic has lain down to rest. I hear the 
chariot wheels of vanity rolling here and there, 
bearing- her on to distant streets, to halls roofed 
in, and lighted to the true pitch for folly. Vice 
and misery are roaming, prowling, mourning in the 
streets, like night-birds turned loose in the forest. 

"The high and the low are here, the joyful and 
the sorrowful are here; men are dying here; men 
are being born; men are praying — on the other 
side of the brick partition, men are cursing; 
around them is all the vast void of nigfht. The 
proud grandee still lingers in his perfumed saloons 
or reposes within damask curtains. Wretched- 
ness cowers into truckle-beds, or shivers, hunger- 




THE HOUSES OF PARLIAMENT. 



log 



no SIGHTS OF LONDON. 

Stricken, into its lair of straw. In obscure cel- 
lars, squalid poverty languidly emits its voice of 
destiny to haggard, hungry villians, while land- 
lords sit as counsellors of state, plotting and 
playing their high chess game, whereof the pawns 
are men. 

"The blushing maiden, listening to whisperings 
of love, is urged to trust him who, in all proba- 
bility, seeks to rob her of that crown of glory 
without which woman is indeed a "poor thing." 
A thousand gin palaces are open, and are at this 
moment crowded with drinking and drunken men 
and women — perhaps far less of males than of fe- 
males. Gay mansions with supper rooms and 
dancing halls are full of light and music and high- 
swelling hearts. But, in yonder condemned cells,' 
the pulse of life beats tremulous and faint. The 
sleepless and blood-shot eyes look through the 
darkness that is around and within for the last 
stern morning. Full three millions of two-legged 
animals lie around us in horizontal positions, 
their heads in night-caps and their hearts full of 
foolish dreams. Riot cries aloud and staggers 
and swaesfers in his rank dens of shame. 

"The mother, with streaming hair and bleeding 
heart, kneels over her pallid, dying infant, whose 
beastly father is drunk and cursing; all these 
heaped and huddled together with nothing but a* 
little carpentry and masonry between them ; all 
crammed in like salted fish in their barrel, or 
weltering, shall I say, like an Egyptian pitcher of 



SIGHTS OF LONDON. Ill 

tamed vipers, each struggling to get his head 
above the others." This is as true now as it was 
in Carlyle's day. Such work goes on every night 
of the year. Having seen these things myself, I 
speak what I do know. I am truly glad that 
London is in England, and not in our beloved 
country. I hope we may never have a city as 
large as this, for I am thoroughly convinced that 
it is not good for so many men and women to 
dwell together. 

If it were possible for five millions of men to 
come together to live and do business in the 
same city, each having the same amount of money 
in the struggle of the survival of the fittest which 
would follow, a few men would soon have great 
wealth, and others would be reduced to poverty 
and want. The successful ones would then be- 
come proud and haughty, overbearing and dicta- 
torial. Some of the others would, like the ass 
in the tread-mill and ox under the yoke, be 
doomed to a life of toil and servitude. Another 
class of the unfortunate ones would become de- 
spondent, wretched, wreckless, indolent and selfish. 
The hard-hearted would set dead-falls and snares 
to catch their weak-minded and strong-passioned 
brother. This would go on and on until thous- 
ands would lose their manhood and womanhood. 
They would abandon all hope and courage and 
virtue. They would resort to treachery, lying, 
stealing, gambling, and murdering. They would 



SIGHTS OF LONDON. I13 

thus degenerate into the lowest, vilest, meanest 
specimens of humanity. 

This is London. I have seen more wealth, 
more of the trappings of place and pride, more 
worldly pomp and regal splendor, than I have 
ever seen anywhere else. I have also seen more 
poverty, suffering, vice, and ignorance than I ever 
expected to find in a country so highly favored 
as is England. 

Having spoken somewhat at length of the lower 
strata of London life, let us now look at the 
praiseworthy efforts that are being made to ele- 
vate, humanize, moralize, and Christianize these 
hope-abandoned wretches. What is known as the 
"East End" is the worst part of the city. It is 
inhabited by a million and a half of people, most 
of them being the off-scouring of creation — not 
"the bravest of the brave," but the vilest of the 
vile. Just in the midst of this aen of shame and 
corruption stands the "Great Assembly Hall" 
which, for the last eleven years, has been open 
day and night for gospel work. 

Mr. Fred. M. Charrington, the Superintendent 
of this Mission, has a strange and interesting 
history. His father was a strange man of great 
wealth, and one of the largest brewers in London. 
He had only two sons, who were the sole heirs of 
his immense fortune and lucrative business. The 
sons had all the advantages of a thorough educa- 
tion" and extensive travel. Fred, served twelve 
months as brewer to the Queen. Biit, some 



114 SIGHTS OF LONDON, 

sixteen years ago, as Fred. Charrington (then 
twenty-one years old) was returning from a con- 
tinental tour, he chanced to fall in with a gospel 
minister. When the preacher spoke of man's 
duty to serve God, Charrington protested. He 
said they had had a pleasant time together, and 
he did not care to have their peace disturbed, or 
friendship broken, by the introduction of such sub- 
jects as man's sin, Christ's righteousness, death, 
hell, and the judgment. This conversation led to 
Charrington's conversion. After that, he worked 
in the brewery all day, taught the Bible to classes 
at night, and preached the gospel on the streets 
every Sunday. He soon saw, however, that he 
could not successfully teach the Bible, and preach 
the gospel on Sunday, to people who were drunk 
on the beer and whiskey that he had sold them 
during the week. This so troubled his conscience 
that he gave up a business that was bringing him 
an annual income of more than $25,000. He then 
established this Mission in East London, which 
has o-rown to be the largest and most successful 
work of the kind in the world. The Assembly 
Hall, with the property belonging to it, is valued 
at $250,000, Charrington having given about one- 
third of the money out of his own pocket. He 
has more than 2,500 members in his church. 
He is strictly an immersionist. Before one can 
possibly become a member of Charrington's 
church, he must sign a pledge neither to drink, 
nor buy, nor sell whiskey, beer, or any other 



SIGHTS OF LONDON. 



115 



Strong drink. His Sunday audiences range from 
4,000 to 5,000. 

In connection with the Mission, there are a 




coffee saloon, a bookstore, Young Men's Christian 
Association, Young Women's Christian Associa- 
tion, a news-boy and boot-black mission, a penny 



Il6 SIGHTS OF LONDON. 

savings-bank, an emigration bureau, a house of 
correction for bad boys, and a reformatory for 
young women. All departments of this wonderful 
Mission move on with the regularity of clock-work. 
I have preached and lectured for Mr. Charrington 
a few times, and have half-way promised to spend 
a month with him next year. I love to be with 
him. He is full of hope. The spirit of God is 
upon him. Verily old things have passed away, 
and all things have become new to him. The 
things he once loved he now hates, and the things 
he once hated he now loves. A new song has 
been put into his mouth — even the song of Zion. 
Oh, the power, the wonderful power, of the gospel! 

The Christian people of London have expend- 
ed, and are still expending, vast sums of money 
in establishing and maintaining large and suc- 
cessful Missions in different parts of the city es- 
pecially in the East End, for the elevation of 
degraded humanity. And nothing but the power 
of God can make these people fit to live on earth, 
much less to dwell in Heaven. Millions and 
millions of dollars have, also, been, and are still 
being, expended in establishing and maintaining 
hospitals and asylums, workhouses, reformatories, 
and schools. Most of these institutions are com- 
paratively new, but they are now splendidly fitted 
up and well cared for. They will, under God, be 
powerful agencies for good. 

I was quite delighted, a few days ago, to meet 
my old friend and fellow student, S. A. Smith, of 



SIGHTS OF LONDON. ny 



Kansas. After graduating from two of our best 
American institutions of learning, Mr. Smith came 
to Europe to continue his studies. He has spent 
three years in Germany, France, and England, 
studying the ancient languages, especially the 
Semitic languages. I have never known a man 
with a greater capacity for work than S. A. Smith. 
He is the author of two very valuable books, one 
of which is just out, and is dedicated to Professor 
J. R. Sampey. Such an honor was never more 
worthily bestowed. 



CHAPTER XII, 



A TRIO OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN. 



Joseph Parker — Canon Farrar — Charles H. Spurgeon. 



THERE seem to be a few men in every age and 
country in whom tliere is centred all that is 
purest, noblest, and best in the moral, relig- 
ious, and intellectual life of their people. And, if 
it be true, as Pope says, that "The proper study 
of mankind is man," then it is a desirable thing to 
be thrown with these men who are religiously pure, 
morally good, and intellectually great. "As iron 
sharpeneth iron, so a man sharpeneth the coun- 
tenance of his friend." What can be more inspir- 
ing than to come in contact with men "on whom 
God has set his seal," and of each of whom it may 
be said, as of Brutus, 

"His life is gentle, and the elements 
So mixed in him that Nature might stand up 
And say to the world : ' This is a man.^ " 

I shall not now speak of England's law-makers 
and political magnates, neither of her authors and 
literary lights; of these I shall have something to 
say hereafter. But in this chapter I shall confine 
myself to three religious leaders, who are well 
worthy of our careful study. 



A TRIO OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN. II9 

Joseph Parker, Canon Farrar, and Charles 
Spurgeon are three preachers in whom, I think, 
are centred all the "gifts and graces" of the Eng- 
lish pulpit. I listen to these men with great inter- 
est, and, I hope, not without some profit. I study 
them closely, I try, as best I can, to discover the 
secret of their power and marvellous success. No 
one can reasonably question their power, or deny 
their success. For eighteen or twenty years, Doc- 
tor Parker has been preaching three times a week 
in the great City Temple of London, The house 
holds 2,500 or 3,000 people. It is always crowded 
on Sunday, at morning and night. On Thursday 
at noon he has 1,200 to 1,800 persons to listen to 
him. Hundreds of the best business men in the 
city leave their places of employment, and go to 
hear him one hour each week. 

Frederick W. Farrar is Canon of Westminister 
Abbey, and Chaplain to the Queen. The Abbey 
is one of the most splendid temples on earth. As 
the preacher stands in the pulpit, he is surrounded 
by the busts and statues, by the tombs and monu- 
ments, of historians and statesmen, of poets and 
artists. His audience is composed chiefly of the 
aristocracy of England. Here is where the dukes 
and earls and lords, the kings and queens and 
princes, of the nation do most congregate. To 
minister in holy things, from year to year, to an 
audience like this, one must, of necessity, be pos- 
sessed of splendid powers. 

Of Mr. Spurgeon, what shall I say.? When we 



I20 



A TRIO OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN, 



remember that there is an utter absence of what 
is known as sensationalism about Mr. Spurgeon, 
and yet that his audience has for the last thirty 
years averaged more than five thousand people; 
when we remember that his Tabernacle holds 




REV CHARLES H. SPURGEON. 



about 6,500 hearers, and yet that hundreds and 
hundreds are frequently turned away from the 
doors; when we remember that his name has 
become a household word throughout Europe 
and America, and many of the remotest Isles of 



A TRIO OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN. 121 

the seas; when we remember that he is one and 
the same to-day, yesterday, and thirty years ago, 
a living embodiment of faith in God and His 
blessed Word, a perfect personification of buoy- 
ant hope and simple, childlike trust, — I say, when 
we remember all these things, we are lost in 
wonder and astonishment. In writing of such a 
man, words lose their power. 

I try as nearly as possible to view Parker, 
Farrar, and Spurgeon through the same glasses. 
I endeavor to listen to them without fear or 
favor, without preference or prejudice. All of 
them say striking things, and I give here a charac- 
teristic expression of each of the three preachers. 

Parker: "Do children grow up as they should 
grow, without the proper care and nurture ? 
Thistles do, flowers do not; oroats do, horses do 
not — and there is more of man in a horse than 
horse in a man." 

Farrar, in speaking to the young men before 
him: "I earnestly conjure you now, at the begin- 
ning of your life's career, to hang about your 
necks the jeweled amulet of self-respect." 

Spurgeon: "The Lord loves all of His peo- 
ple, but somehow methinks the meek are His 
Josephs; upon them He puts His coat of many 
colors — of joy and peace, of long-suffering and 
patience." 

These gems of thought are, I think, illustrative 
of the real difference between Joseph Parker, 
Canon Farrar, and Charles Spurgeon. The first 



122 A TRIO OF ILLUSTRIOUS MEN. 

impresses me as a moral philosopher, the second 
as a Christian rhetorician, the third as a gospel 
minister. The first studies philosophy, the second 
aesthetics, the third the Bible. The first is a 
lecturer, the second a writer, and the third a 
preacher. The first shows himself, the second his 
culture, the third his Lord. All three, of them 
are great men, and it is possible that I would 
change my mind as to their respective merits, if I 
could hear them oftener; but I am honestly of 
the opinion that, as a gospel preacher, Mr. Spur- 
geon possesses the virtues of the other two, 
without the faults of either. Like Saul, he tow- 
ers head and shoulders above his brethren. Like, 
the stars, the other two shine when the sun is 
behind the hills, but when he arises their glory 
is eclipsed. 



CHAPTER XIII. 

NOTTINGHAM, CAMBRIDGE, AND BEDFORD, 



Preaching to 2,500 People — Entertained after the Manner of Royalty — Excursion 
to Cambridge — What Happened on the Way — Received an Entertainment by 
the Mayor — Cambridge University — King's Chapel — Fitzwilliam Museum — 
Trinity College — Cambridge Bibles — Adieu to Friends — Bedford — The Church 
where John Bunyan Preached — Bedford Jail, where Bunyan wrote Pilgrim's 
Progress — Bunyan's Statue — Elstow, Bunyan 's Birthplace — His Cottage — His 
Chapel— An Old Elm Tree. 



I AM now in Bedford; but before writing about 
this historic place, I must go back a little and 
tell you something about my wayward wan- 
derings for the last ten days. While in Notting- 
ham, some weeks ago, I preached one Sunday 
night in the Albert Hall to twenty-five hundred or 
three thousand people. The good Lord gracious- 
ly blest the meeting. Several persons were con- 
verted — they found that peace which passeth all 
understanding. The people insisted that I remain 
and preach again, but I could not do so. 

After visiting Wales, and spending a week or 
two in London, the minister accepted an invitation 
to go back to Nottingham and preach. He re- 
mained over two Sundays, preaching both days to 
the Albert Hall people. The happiest moments 
of a minister's life are when he is preaching the 
gospel of Jesus Christ to a large and sympathetic 



124 NOTTINGHAM, CAMBRIDGE AND BEDFORD. 

audience, It is then that his delight reaches the 
highest point on the thermometer of the soul. 

During rny stay in Nottingham, I was the guest 
of a model Christian family who treated me after 
the manner of royalty. Nottingham is a railroad 
centre, and each day I was taken in a carriage or 
by rail to see a beautiful river, placid lake, or a 
towering mountain ; or to see some noted forest 
ancient hall, or historic castle. The members of 
the family who accompanied me on these delight- 
ful excursions were familiar with the legends, liter- 
ature, and history of the country. 

Yesterday I went on an excursion with this 
family, and sixty other Nottingham people, to 
Cambridge. We were up in. time to hear the 
lark's morning song. The sky was clear; scarcely 
a cloud floated above us. And ere yet the bright 
sun had kissed the dewdrop from off the grass, we 
had turned our faces toward those classic halls 
where learning lives. We dashed through mc^ny 
meadows where the wild flowers were beautifully 
interwoven with the green grass. We leaped 
many laughing rivers, winding streams, and bab- 
bling brooks. We wound around among many 
hills, and tunneled many mountains. These tun- 
nels were numerous, long and dark. Now, in our 
party there happened to be a newly-married 
couple in the same compartment with myself, and 
these tunnels were to them always a source of joy 
and rejoicing. They loved darkness rather than 



NOTTINGHAM, CAMBRIDGE AND BEDF(3RD. 125 

light — why, it is not necessary for me to state. 
Johnson says it was always thus. 

At the depot, we were met by the aldermen and 
deputy mayor of the city of Cambridge, who, in a 
most graceful manner, informed us that we were 
their guests, that they had plenty of carriages 
present to accommodate the party, and would 
first show us the sights of the city, and then 
return to the hotel where a public dinner would 
be served. We proceeded at once to the Univer- 
sity which comprises seventeen different colleges, 
all havinor different names, havinof been founded 
at different times by different persons. Each 
college owns its own grounds, buildings, and 
endowment fund, and has its separate faculty. 
Some of the buildings are six or seven hundred 
years old. They are, however, quite well pre- 
served, and are splendid specimens of the style 
of architecture of the eleventh and twelfth centur- 
ies. King's Chapel, the Chapel of King's College, 
was built in the twelfth century, and it is nothing 
less than an architectural wonder. It is said to 
be one of the most remarkable structures in 
Christendom. The Chapel is quite narrow, but is 
well-nigh four hundred feet long, and one hundred 
and twenty-five feet high. Reader, I shall not 
attempt to describe this building, for, unless the 
massive structure could rise before you in its 
colossal proportions; unless you could go on the 
inside, and actually stand upon thrilling history 
as it is written in the Mosaic marble floor ; unless 



126 NOTTINGHAM, CAMBRIDGE AND BEDFORD. 

you could lift your eyes from the historic floor, 
and see Bible stories standing out in life-like 
reality as they are pictured before you in the 
stained-glass windows; unless you could lookup 
and behold for yourself the exquisite carving on 
the vaulted Gothic roof a hundred feet above 
you; unless that holy calm, which these scenes 
inspire and which forever inhabits these sacred 
walls, could settle down upon your own spirit, — 
I say, that unless you could see, realize, and ex- 
perience all these things in, and of, and for, your- 
self, then it were impossible for you to appreciate 
the beauty, the grandeur, the sublimity of this 
splendid structure. 

The Fitzwilliam Museum is the most handsome 
modern building in Cambridge, if not in Great 
Britain. It looks as if it should be placed in a 
glass case and kept for the angels to inhabit. 

In Trinity College Library, I saw the original 
manuscript of Milton's "Paradise Lost," the 
manuscript of Lord Macaulay's "History of Eng- 
land," also the first letter that Lord Byron ever 
penned; he wrote, in his mother's name, thanking 
a neighbor lady for some potatoes which she had 
been kind enough to send Lady Byron. I saw 
the telescope used by Newton in studying the 
heavenly bodies, and by the assistance of which 
he discovered new planets. 

I was much interested in going through the 
University printing establishment, and in seeing 
the Cambridge Bibles manufactured. When I 



NOTTINGAAM, CAMBRIDGE AND BEDFORD. 1 27 

got back to Nottingham, I felt that I could truly 
say: "I have been through Cambridge University, 
and still I may write, "Plus ultra'" — there is more 
beyond, more to learn." 

I bade adieu to my Nottingham friends this 
morning while the dewdrops and the rays of the 
sun were yet playing hide-and-seek and seek-and- 
hide. Two hours later found me in Bedford. I 
go at once to the church where John Bunyan was 
pastor two hundred years ago. The church I 
find surrounded by a huge iron fence. After 
hunting for half an hour, I succeed in finding the 
sexton who kindly shows me through. The front 
door of the church cost six thousand dollars. It 
is molded of heavy bronze. The door is divided 
into twelve large panels, each panel representing 
a scene taken from Pilgrim s Progress. The first 
panel on the bottom of the lefthand side repre- 
sents Christian with the burden of sin on his 
back, parting with his wife and children, leaving 
the city of Destruction and starting out for that 
city whose builder and maker is God. In the 
other panels we see Christian as he passes 
through the wicket gate; as he approaches the 
cross and loses his burden; as he falls into the 
hands of Giant Despair and is thrust into Doubt- 
ing Castle ; as he passes the lions in his way ; as 
he sleeps and loses his scroll; as he enters Vanity 
Fair; as he stands on the Delectable Mountains 
from which he views the city of the blessed and 
hears the music of the redeemed ; and finally we see 



128 NOTTINGHAM, CAMBRIDGE AND BEDFORD. 

him as he crosses the River of Death, and is wel- 
comed by the angels as he reaches the golden shore. 

In the back end of the church, is a small room 
containing some relics of Bunyan. Among other 
things, is the chair which Bunyan occupied while 
in Bedford jail, and in which he sat while writing 
Pilgrhns Progress. The iron-barred door of this 
little room is the same door that locked Bunyan 
in his prison cell. My blood runs cold in my 
veins as I look upon the iron bolts and bars 
behind which Bunyan stood and preached the 
gospel to the listening multitudes as they gather- 
ed around the jail. 

Near by the church is the place where the old 
prison stood. The prison was torn down in 1801, 
the old site now being used as a market-place 
during the week, and as a place for street-preach- 
ing on Sunday. 

At the head of High Street, near where the old 
jail stood, there is a splendid bronze statue of the 
immortal dreamer. The statue is more than life 
size. It stands upon a tall granite pedestal, on 
which is the following inscription ; 

" He had his eyes Ufted to heaven ; 
The best of books in his hand, 
The law of truth was written upon his lips ; 
He stood as if he pleaded with men." 

One hour's wS.lk from Bedford brings me to 
Elstow. This is the birthplace of the man who 
wrote the greatest book this world ever saw, 



NOTTINGHAM, CAMBRIDGE AND BEDFORD. 1 29 



excepting only the Bible. The old dormer-win- 
dowed cottage where Bunyan first saw light still 
survives the wrecks of time. On the village 
green, near by the cottage, is an old church where 
in early life he was sexton. Close by this church 
stands Bunyan's chapel, where he first began to 
publish the glad tidings of salvation. 

At the forks of the road, about two hundred 
yards from the cottage, is a lordly elm-tree, be- 




BUNYAN'S COTTAGE. 

neath whose sheltering branches Bunyan used to 
stand and preach the gospel to listening thou- 
sands. I climb this tree, and cut several branches 
of which to make pen-stocks. 

Well, reader, I am tempted to go on and give 
you the thoughts that are passing through my 
mind; but I must not. Like Bunyan's Pilgrim, I 
am tired. I feel weak and faint. I must have 
quiet and rest, so let us close this chapter. 



CHAPTER XIV. 

BRITISH BAPTISTS THEIR DIVERSITIES THE REGU- 
LAR BAPTISTS OF ENGLAND. 



BY EDWARD PARKER, D. D., MANCHESTER, ENGLAND. 



Their Number and Divisions— The Regular Baptists — Their Movements and Pro- 
gress. 



BRITISH Baptists are not one body in the 
sense, or to the same extent, that American 
Baptists are. If a man in America says he 
is a Baptist, it is known exactly what he means. 
But if a man in England says he is a Baptist, you 
need further to know what sort of a Baptist he is 
before you can form a definite opinion of his be- 
lief or practice. All British Baptists are alike in 
three things. They are, of course, all Immersion- 
Ists ; they believe that the immersion of believers 
on a profession of their faith is the only baptism 
of Scripture. They are all Congregationalists ; 
they believe that every separate congregation of 
believers is a church in itself, apart from any other 
congregation, and competent to manage its own 
affairs. They are all Voluntaries; that is, they 
are opposed to all connection between Church 
and State, and all endowments for the support of 



THE BAPTISTS OF ENGLAND. T31 

the clergy secured or allotted to them by the law 
of the land. They neither accept the patronage, 
nor allow of the interference, of the civil magis- 
trate in matters of religion and conscience. But, 
while ao-reed on these things, there are others on 
which they differ. 

The first principal difference between them is 
indicated by the terms Particular and General 
Baptists. These terms express a difference, not 
of practice in regard to communion, but of creed. 
Particular Baptists are professedly Calvinistic in 
their creed; General Baptists are professedly 
Arminian. Particular Baptists have existed in 
England for a much longer period than General 
Baptists. The first General Baptist church in 
England was founded in about the year 1612, and 
had its location in Newgate, London. After a 
time, an Association of General Baptist churches 
was formed; and still later, in 1770, the Associa- 
tion was re-oro-anized under the title of the Gen- 
eral Baptist Association of the New Connection. 
The occasion for this new departure was the doc- 
trinal degeneracy of the churches of the old associa- 
tion. " From general redemption," says Dr. Ryland, 
"they had gone to no redemption; from Armin- 
ianism to Arianism and Socinianism." This re- 
organized Association still exists, and it still bears 
the same name. The churches belonging to it 
are all Arminian in doctrine. On the question of 
Communion, they are divided. Some of them 
practice Close Communion, and some Open^' 



1^2 



BRITISH BAPTISTS. 



Formerly, the churches were nearly all Close, but 
Open Communionism has made considerable ad- 
vances amongst them during recent years. They 
have a College at Nottingham for the education 
of young men for the ministry. They have, also, 
their own Missionary Societies. 







KDWARD PARKER, D. D. 



■:^-'..^-^'>" 



The Particular, or Calvinistic, Baptists of Eng- 
land differ in some respects from each other. 
Professedly, they are all alike, Calvinists, but they 
are not all Calvinists alike. Some of them are 
hyper, and some of them moderate. Calvinists. 



BRITISH BAPTISTS. 1 33 

At the beginning of this century, nearly all the 
Particular Baptists in the country were Hyper- 
Calvinists. This resulted from the teaching of 
such men as John Brine and Doctor John Gill. 
The teaching of and influence of Andrew Fuller 
inauofurated a chang-e : and the change thus in- 
augurated has continued and developed ever 
since, so that to-day the vast majority of Particu- 
lar Baptists in Great Britain are moderate Cal- 
vinists. The Hyper-Calvinists,- however, are by 
no means extinct. In some parts of England 
they are rather numerous, while in almost all parts 
a few of them may be found. There are amongst 
them some very excellent people. They adhere 
firmly to their principles. They maintain a sep- 
arateness from the world that other Christians 
might profitably emulate. But, speaking gener- 
ally, they are not very aggressive in their spirit; 
at any rate in the direction of eftorts to spread 
the truth. There is not much of the missionary 
spirit amongst them. They have, however, one 
Missionary Society called, with an emphasis, the 
Strict Baptist Mission. This Mission has two 
centres of evangelical work — in India and Ceylon. 
In India, there are sixteen stations, and twenty- 
eight workers; in Ceylon, there are six stations 
and seven workers. The income last year was 
nearly ^700, and the expenditure about ^590. 

The Particular Baptists of Britain that are in 
doctrine Moderate Calvinists are divided into 
Close and Open Communionists. All the Hyper- 



134 BRITISH BAPTISTS. 

Calvinistic Baptists are Close Communlonists. 
The object of their Missionary Society, to which 
reference has just been made, is stated to be "the 
diffusion of the Gospel in heathen lands, and the 
formation of churches in accordance with the 
principles of Strict Communion Baptists." And 
the churches at home are, in respect to commun- 
ion, of the same type as those which they aim to 
form abroad. V^ast numbers of the Moderate 
Calvinistic Baptists are Open Communionists. 
But this is not universally the case. There are 
British Baptists that are neither extreme in doc- 
trine, nor loose in practice. In regard alike to 
doctrine and practice, they may justly be desig- 
nated, as their American brethren are designated 
Regular Baptists. 

The question may naturally be asked : "What is 
the relative numerical strength of these different 
descriptions of British Baptists.?" That question 
it is difficult, if not impossible, to answer exactly 
to its full extent. It is not difficult to determine 
the relative numerical strength of the General 
and the Particular Baptists. Baptists of all sorts 
in Britain, according to the Baptist Hand Book 
of 1890, number, churches 2,786; members 329,126. 
Of these, the "General Baptist Association" con- 
tains, churches 206; members 26,782. These fig- 
ures indicate pretty accurately the numerical 
strength of the General and Particular Baptists, 
respectively. But, when we come to the different 
sections of the Particular Baptists, accurate infer- 



BRITISH BAPTISTS. 135 

mation is not so easily obtainable. There are no 
means of ascertaining how many Hyper-Calvinists 
there are amongst the Particular Baptists. They 
have an Association in London with fifty-six 
churches, and another in Suffolk and Norfolk 
with twenty-seven churches; but outside the limits 
of these Associations the churches are, for the 
most part, isolated from each other, and from 
their brethren generally. Then again, of the 
Moderate Calvinists it not easy to determine 
how many are Close, and how many are Open, 
Communionists. For, while maintaining their 
distinctive principles, the two often co-exist in 
the same Association, and to a large extent co- 
operate in general denominational work. It must 
be admitted that the majority, and a considerable 
majority, of the Baptists in Britain who are Mod- 
erate Calvinists are also Open Communionists. 
And this considerable majority includes most of 
the largest, and nearly all of the wealthiest, 
churches, together with a large proportion of the 
ablest and best known ministers. Still there are 
Regular Baptists in existence ; nor are they, 
though sometimes ignored and often reproached, 
insignificant in respect to either numbers or influ- 
ence. If the whole of the United Kindom be 
taken into account, the Regular Baptists compose 
a somewhat large army. They include in their 
ranks most of the Baptists in Scotland. The 
Scotch Baptists are strong Calvinists but not 
Hyper-Calvinists, and .they are Close Commun- 



136 IJRITISH BAPTISTS. 

ionists. They include all the Welsh Baptists. 
There are in Wales 625 churches, with a total of 
77,126 members; not one of these is Hyper and 
they are all Close Communion. There are a few 
English Baptists in Wales that are Open Com- 
munion, but all the Welsh Baptists are Close, 
whether in Wales or out of it. There are some 
districts in England where Regular Baptists are 
decidedly strong. In not a few districts, to meet 
with a Regular Baptist church is an exception ; 
while in other districts it is an exception to meet 
with anything else. The Rossendale district, in 
the County of Lancaster, is about ten miles in 
length, and five or six in breadth. It contains 
sixteen Regular Baptist churches. In the Hud- 
dersfield district, Yorkshire, which covers an area 
of only a few miles, there are thirteen Baptist 
churches, and eleven of them are Regular Baptist. 
The Regular Baptists of England proper, 
though not obtrusive in their character, are stur- 
dy and robust. They know what they believe, 
and why they believe it; and they are prepared 
in all circumstances, and at all hazards, to stand 
by their faith. They are not a people that the 
bewitchings of flattery can delude, or the terrors 
of opposition daunt. Though often condemned 
because of their narrowness, they are respected 
by those who condemn them, because of their, 
firmness and consistency. They are men that can 
be relied upon. In important crises, both relig- 
ious and political, they have proved themselves 



BRITISH BAPTISTS. 137 

the very backbone of the Baptist denomination. 
To those around them, their ability has been 
strength and their courage inspiration. ■; 

The denominational work of the Regular Bap- 'jf- 

tists is done, to a very large extent, through the 
existing denominational Societies. Their work 
in foreign missions is done through the Baptist 
Foreign Missionary Society. The first secretary 
of that Society was a sturdy Regular Baptist — 
Andrew Fuller. And Regular Baptists still love 
the Society, and are generous and hearty in their 
support of it. Their Home Missionary work is 
done partly through the Baptist Union, but to a 
greater extent through the county Associations. 
In most of the counties of England, there is an 
Association of Baptist churches, distinct from the 
Baptist Union, though often affiliated with it; 
and in connection with these Associations there 
is generally a Home Missionary Society; and, 
through these different Home Missionary Socie- 
ties, Regular Baptists work with others to plant 
Baptist churches and spread Baptist principles 
through the land. Years ago, the Regular Bap- 
tists sustained a separate Missionary Society for 
the Continent of Europe; but the growth and de- 
velopment of the missionary work in Germany, 
under the late Mr. Oncken, led them to transfer 
their operations to the German Baptist Mission, 
which mission they continue to support. A prom- 
inent Regular Baptist layman, Martin H. Wilkin; 
Esq., of London, is the English treasurer of it. 



138 BRITISH BAPTISTS. 

In addition to the work they do through the 
agencies that have been named, the Regular Bap- 
tists of England have two Societies that are dis- 
tinctively their own — "The Baptist Tract and 
Book Society,'' and "The Manchester Baptist Col- 
lege." The Baptist Tract and Book Society came 
into existence nearly fifty years ago. Previously 
to that time, there had existed in England no So- 
ciety, or agency, for the printing an4 disseminat- 
ing of Baptist literature. This was much regret- 
ted by some good men, who met together and 
formed a Society whose object should be "to 
make known " the glorious gospel of the blessed 
God, "by the publication of small treatises and 
tracts; and especially to disseminate the views of 
Baptists relative to the doctrines and ordinances 
of the New Testament." The Society in its very 
beginning, was condemned and opposed by some, 
by some Baptists even ; and, strange to say, be- 
cause it was Baptist. With the Religious Tract 
Society in existence, they contended, a denomina- 
tional organization was, to say the least, uncalled 
for. There are some amongst Baptists still who, 
if they do not oppose the Society, look askance 
at it, and stand aloof from it, not ostensibly be- 
cause it is Baptist, but because as Baptist, it is 
not sufficiently "broad." Nevertheless, the So- 
ciety has held on its way. Originated by Regu- 
lar Baptists, and formed on Regular Baptist prin- 
ciples, it is still under the control of Regular Bap- 
tists, and worked on Regular Baptist lines. It is 



BRITISH BAPTISTS. 1 39 

tne same Society to-day that it was at first, except 
that it is larger and stronger, and fills a more ex- 
tended sphere of usefulness. Its tracts have been 
circulated, not only in Britain, but also in almost 
every part of the world. And the committee re- 
port that "encouraging communications are con- 
stantly being received, containing testimonials to 
the value of the Society's publications, and the 
signal blessings attending their circulation." 

The Manchester Baptist College grew out of 
an old society, first called the Strict Baptist 
Society, and afterwards the Baptist Evangeli- 
cal Society. This Society was formed in the 
year 1844. One of its principal objects was the 
education of young men for the ministry. All the 
denominational colleges in England at that time 
were practically Open Communion. Professedly, 
they were neutral on the Communion question; 
but, as a matter of fact, all their neutrality was 
on one side. All the professors and tutors were 
Open Communion, and so, with few exceptions, 
were the ministers sent out from them. If the 
young were Close Communion when they entered 
college, they, in most cases, became Open before 
they left. The Regular Baptists were therefore 
made to feel it incumbent upon them to establish 
an educational institution of their own : first, that 
they might protect their young men who devoted 
themselves to the work of the ministry from in- 
fluences unfriendly to their stability in the faith 
in which they had been taught ; and, secondly, 



140 BRITISH BAPTISTS, 

that their churches might be relieved from the 
necessity of choosing either an uneducated man 
for their pastor, or a man whose views were not 
in harmony with their own. Hence the action 
they took in the formation of the Soeiety just re- 
ferred to. The plan adopted by this Society was 
that of placing students who had given satisfac- 
tory evidence that they possessed grace and gifts 
suitable for the ministry of the gospel, and for 
pastoral work, separately, or in twos or threes, for 
a period of two or three years, under the tuitional 
care and guidance of some able and experienced 
pastor. Joseph Harbottle, ot Accrington, uncle 
of Dr. Joseph Angus, of Regent's Park College, 
London; John Shearer, of Glasgow; Dr. John 
Stock, of Salendine Nook, Haddersfield ; and, pre- 
eminently, Thomas Dawson, of Liverpool, were 
amongst the pastors chosen for this purpose. By 
their personal influence, and by their devoted 
labors, all these good men laid the students of the 
Baptist Evangelical Society, and the Society itself, 
and the Regular Baptist cause in England general- 
ly, under deep and lasting obligation. 

But, excellently as this plan worked for a while, 
a new departure was eventually found to be neces- 
sary, and steps were taken to establish a college. 
After much thought and prayer. Chamber Hall, 
Bury, Lancashire (the birth-place o( the f^rea^ Sir 
Robert Peel) was secured as the home of the col- 
lege, and it was opened in October, 1866, with the 
Rev. Henry Dawson, who had been for more than 



BRITISH BAPTISTS. I4I 

thirty years the devoted and successful pastor of 
the Regular Baptist church, Westgate, Bradford 
Yorkshire, as its president and theological tutor. 
Soon afterwards, the Rev. Dr. Evans was engaged 
as lecturer in Ecclesiastical History, and the Rev. 
James Webb as classical tutor. In Chamber 
Hall, the college was conducted successfully, 
though with some disadvantages, for more than 
seven years, when it was removed to handsome 
premises, which had in the meantime been erected 
in Brighton Grove, Rusholme, Manchester. The 
building in Brighton Grove, where the college has 
had its home for the last seventeen years, is the 
property of the college. It cost more than 11,000 
pounds. Previously to the removal of the college 
from Bury, Dr. Evans died; and, about four years 
after the removal, in the year 1877, Mr. Dawson 
and Mr. Webb both resigned their respective 
posts, owing to the infirmities of age. Dr. Ed- 
ward Parker was appointed president and theo- 
logical tutor in place of Mr. Dawson, and the 
Rev. John Turner Marshall, M. A. (London) was 
appointed classical tutor in succession to Mr. 
Webb, positions which they both still hold. 

This college is the only one in England on 
Close Communion lines. It has had to struggle 
for its existence. Regular Baptists are compara- 
tively poor, and Open Communionist friends 
have not looked kindly upon it. They have hin- 
dered it in more instances than they have helped 
it. Still all its needs have been supplied. It 



142 BRITISH BAPTISTS. 

has gained for itself a respectable position among 
other colleges for the thoroughness of its educa- 
tional training and the scholarship of its students. 
In the competitive examinations, last May, of the 
Non-conformist colleges of England and Wales 
a student of Manchester Baptist College came off 
first with honors, and another student stood fifth 
in the first division. What is more important, 
the College has fulfilled the expectations of its 
founders in conserving and advancing Regular 
Baptist principles. It has arrested the progress 
of Open Communionism in Regular Baptist 
churches. It has filled the pulpits of more than 
seventy churches, a large proportion of which 
were formerly filled by ministers of Open Com- 
munion sentiments. The College is, in a very 
eminent sense, the hope of the Regular Baptist 
cause in England. It has done a great work for 
that cause already. If it is still encouraged, as 
there is every reason to believe that it w^ill be, by 
the same devoted generosity that its friends have 
extended to it hitherto, it will yet do still greater 
thino-s. 



CHAPTER XV. 

LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. 



Windsor Castle, the Home of England's Queen — Queen Victoria — The Home of 
Shakespeare — Across the Channel — First Impressi^^ns — Old Time Ways — Brus- 
sels on a Parade — Waterloo Re-enacted — A Visit to the Field of Waterloo — 
A Lion with Eyes Fixed on France — Interview with a Man who Saw Napo- 
leon — Wertz Museum — " Napoleon in Hell" — "Hell in Revolt against Heav- 
en" — " Triumph of Christ " — Age Offering the Things of the Present to the 
Man of the Future, 



WINDSOR Castle, the winter residence of 
England's Queen, is situated on the Thames 
about twenty miles from London, and pos- 
sesses many interesting features. The property 
of the Castle comprises a number of towers, gates, 
mansions, barracks, chapels, and other structures. 
The principal portion occupies two courts of spa- 
cious dimensions, an upper and a lower, there being 
a large round tower (or keep) between, in which 
the Governor resides. This tower rises 220 feet 
above the Thames, and it is said that on a clear 
day twelve counties can be seen from its summit. 
St. George's Chapel is an elegant Gothic edifice 
where the royal family occasionally attend divine 
services. The Albert Memorial Chapel is an- 
other place of worship, which was fitted up by 
Queen Victoria in memory of her late husband. 
Here is his tomb, although his bones are buried 
three or four miles away in the royal park. The 












W 




^^w^fmMmm/"/'/w"iy^ 




M N \ li I OKI \. 



T.AST OF L-.o-.AND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. 145 

Chapel is inlaid with costly marbles q( various 
kinds, and it is said that the Queen spent an enor- 
mous sum in beautifying the place. 

The greatest interest of the Castle centres itself 
in what is called the State Apartjnents. These 
are a series of large rooms richly decorated, some 
of them with gildings, paintings and tapestry, 
others with a collection of warlike armor and 
weapons of former centuries. It must be borne 
in mind that these premises have been occupied 
by the royal family for many centuries. These 
walls have several times surrendered their royal 
inmates to the executioner, who came in the name 
of law to avenge political wrongs. 

The large park adjoining the 'Palace grounds is 
almost a fairy garden. It contains many artificial 
lakes and flowing fountains, a great variety of 
shrubbery, and a rich profusion of flowers. Statu- 
ary abounds. Deer, elks, antelopes, and other wild 
animals, are numerous. 

Standing in front of the Palace, one looks down 
the "royal avenue" stretching out in a straight 
line for five miles before him. This splendid 
boulevard is flanked on either side by lordly elms 
whose swaying boughs are so interwoven as to 
form a Pfraceful and almost unbroken arch above 
the drive from one end to the other. On a hot 
summer day, the thick green foliage of the trees, 
flings a grateful shade upon- the drive. 

This is a gala day at Windsor. The Castle is 
decorated, and filled with royal guests. Twenty 



T46 LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. 

thousand people are assembled in the park. At 
two o'clock the Queen and her visitors form a 
procession at the Palace, and pass slowly down 




.^**^;" 



the avenue between the two rows of elm-trees. 
Reaching the far end of the boulevard, they turn 
to the left and, after driving one mile more, they 



LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. I47 

arrive at the place that is to be the scene of 
action. 

The two thousand persons who preceded the 
royal procession have formed a circle about a 
hundred feet in diameter. The size of the circle 
is determined by a rope stretched around. The 
open space is spread with a rich carpet. The 
Queen, attended by her family and royal friends, 
enters the charmed circle and proceeds to its cen- 
tre. After a speech, which it takes her fifteen 
minutes to deliver, she proceeds to lay the cor- 
ner-stone of an equestrian monument to -the late 
Prince Albert Consort. This impressive cere- 
mony being over, the Queen approaches the 
crowd, shakes hands with and speaks kindly to 
those persons standing next to the rope on the 
outside. 

I could shake hands with Her Majesty, and 
would do so, but my American spirit is too proud 
to bend the suppliant knee to any earthly mon- 
arch. I honor Victoria for her useful life and 
deep piety, for her wifely devotion and maternal 
instincts; and I would take off my hat to her as I 
would have her son take off his hat to my mother. 
But as for bowing the knee to her, I never can. 
My knees are too stiff for that kind of exercise. 

Two hours after leaving Windsor, I find my- 
self in Stratford-on-Avon, the home of our own 
" priceless Shakespeare." I spend the night here. 
"A sweet English village is this Stratford, seated 
on the edge of a silvery river green with turfy 



148 LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. 

banks and woody slopes, picturesque with cot- 
tage houses and cottage gardens ; crowned with 
a village church, ivy-clad, surrounded by moss- 




Charlecote Church. Anne Hathaway's Cottag;e. Chailecote Park Palings. 

Shakespeare's House Interior. Stratford Church. Shakespeare's House Exterior. 
Entrance to Stratford Church. Porch Charlecote. 



grown graves, approached by a lime-tree avenue, 
and its slender spire tapering towards Heaven." 
Here Shakespeare first saw light. Here his boy- 



LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. I 49 

hood was spent, his education received, his youth 
passed, his marriage consummated. Here his child- 
ren were born and brought up. Here, too, he 
yielded to that-"bribeless harvester" — Death. So 
this humble village has given to the world "the 
greatest name in our literature, in all literature." 
Hence, Henry Bell said: 

"His birthplace came to be famous, 
And the grave where his bones were laid ; 
And to Stratford, the ancient borough, 
Nations their pilgrimage made." 

Strange thoughts pass through my mind, and 
deep emotions stir my heart, as I wander through 
the house wherein was born the man who wrote 
not for an age, but for all time ; as I stand in the 
church of the Holy Trinity, and look upon the 
grave, the tomb, and bust of him who analyzed 
character as chemists analyze material substances. 
He probed to the heart, and by the light of his 
own genius read unuttered thoughts and discov- 
ered the secret motives of men. Human faces 
were to him so many books wherein he could 
"read strangfe matters." About a mile from Strat- 
ford Is the cottage of Anne Hathaway, who first 
initiated Shakespeare into that sweetest and most 
delightful of all human mysteries — love. 

"That man that hath a tongue, I say, is no man, 
If with his tongue he can not win a woman." 



150 LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. 

Yes, he won her, and afterwards he could say : 

" She is mine own, 
And I as rich in having such a jewel 
As twenty seas, if all their sands were pearl, 
The water nectar, and the rocks pure gold." 

It is a matter of congratulation that our people 
appreciate Shakespeare as much or more than 
•Englishmen. The register at the poet's house 
shows that at least one-half of the number who 
visit his grave are Americans. Nor are our peo- 
ple slow to give material proof of their love for 
the myriad-minded bard. Mr. G. W. Childs, of 
Philadelphia, whom to mention is but to praise, 
has, within the last twelve months, erected in 
Stratford a costly and beautifully designed foun- 
tain to the memory of Shakespeare. 

We might write many other things about our 
mother country, but we must away to the Conti- 
nent. So, adieu, adieu; but I hope not a final 
farewell to merry England. The English Chan- 
nel is only twenty-five miles wide, but it is usually 
rough and boisterous, and is an object of terror 
to travelers. As we start across, Johnson says: 

" Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea 
For an acre of barren ground." 

But the Lord tempers the wind to the shorn lamb. 
The Channel for once is all that could be desired. 
The weather is pleasant, the sea placid as a lake. 
As I land on the Continent at Ostend, the 
thing that most impresses me is the fact that I 



LAST OF ENGLAND AND P^IRST OF THE CONTINENT. I5I 

can not impress any one. The custom-house offi- 
cers surround me. I tell them who I am, where I 
am from, and what my business is ; yet this does 
not satisfy them. I repeat my statement once, 
twice, three times, and still they do not seem to 
comprehend. I say :" Gentlemen, I have told my 
story as plainly as I can speak. Do you now un- 
derstand .? " And when I come to find out, they 
do not understand what "understand" means. 

Buildings on this side of the Channel wear a 
century-old, time-touched appearance. The peo- 
ple have strange, odd, and old-time ways of doing 
things. For instance, they work one horse to a 
two-horse wagon — not in shafts, but on one side 
of the tongue. Frequently they work one ox and 
one horse together. This is what Johnson calls 
being unequally yoked. . 

From Ostend I go direct to Brussels, the capi- 
tal of Belgium. I happen to arrive in the city on 
the day of a national celebration. Everything is 
decorated for the occasion. At night the city is 
beautifully illuminated, and great crowds of en- 
thusiastic people throng the streets. The fire- 
works display is especially fine, representing, 
among other things, the eruption of Vesuvius, the 
Falls of Niagara, and the Battle of Waterloo. As 
the standing army of Belgium is present, the offi- 
cers giving commands, and the soldiers going 
through the manual of arms ; as the royal bands 
are filling the air with martial music; and, as in 
the midst of the brilliant scene, are the bronze 



152 LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. 

Statues of Wellington and others who fought by 
his side on the field of Waterloo, — it really seems 
as if the memorable battle of 181 5 is being re-en- 
acted before my eyes! I can but think of Byron's 
thrilling lines descriptive of the original battle. 

Next morning I am up early, and am soon on 
my way to the scene of action, nine miles from 
Brussels, where the powers of earth came together 
to wrestle for the thrones of Europe. Napoleon 
was at a very great disadvantage, as Wellington 
had by far the best |)Osition. On the hill where 
Wellington's army was stationed, there is now an 
artificial mountain, about six hundred yards in 
circumference and two hundred and fifty feet 
high. This mountain is crowned with a granite 
pedestal, about twenty-five feet high, on which 
stands a huge bronze lion, his right foot resting 
on a great iron ball representing the earth. This 
king of beasts has his eyes turned toward France 
and has a proud, triumphant look on his face. 
There are several small monuments on the field, 
marking the places where different officers and 
heroes fell. The large one of which I speak was 
built seven years after the battle, or one year 
after the death of Napoleon on St. Helena. 
There are several trees, also one small brick 
house surrounded by a wall of the same material 
Standing on the field, just as they were on the day 
of the battle. Of course, they are much riddled 
and shattered by shot and shell. 

I am much interested in a conversation with an 



LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF THE CONTINENT. I 53 

old man who lives where he was born, about four 
miles from the battle field. He is now ninety-one 
years old, hence he was nineteen years of age 
when the memorable battle was fought. He saw 
Napoleon on the day of the fight, and the day 
afterwards was on the field and helped to bury 
the dead. He saw Wellington several times, and 
remembers distinctly how he looked after his 
greatest victory. The old man is approaching 
the end of his journey, and I am truly glad to 
have met him before he crosses the river. 

Let us now return to Brussels and enter the 
Wertz Museum. We find here a picture which is 
truly illustrative of Belgium hatred of Napoleon. 
It is a most wonderful picture. It represents 
Napoleon in hell. He is in the bottomless pit, 
clad in his uniform. A great number of worn and 
hagga.rd widows and childless mothers, of ragged, 
weeping orphans, of old men crippled, maimed 
and halt, are crowding around Napoleon, scoffing, 
jeering, and grinning at him, holding up before 
his eyes and under his nose shattered hands and 
arms and feet and legs, and broken heads and 
bleeding hearts. The sulphurous flames are coil- 
ing up around the unfortunate victim, while on his 
face there is a double expression of agony and 
remorse. When asked if I believe this picture 
really represents Napoleon's present condition, 
I reply: "Judge not, that ye be not judged." 

One could write a volume about this splendid 
collection of pictures, but I will mention only two 



154 LAST OF ENGLAND AND FIRST OF, THE CONTINENT. 

or three more. I am especially impressed with 
two companion pictures, twenty by thirty feet 
each. The first represents hell in revolt against 
Heaven. All the fiends of hell and all the powers 
of darkness are arrayed against Christ and His 
holy angels. Christ dismisses His angels ; they 
fly away, leaving Him all alone. This emboldens 
the enemy, who rush on to the conflict. The 
second picture is "The Triumph of Christ." He 
has hurled the fiends back headlong to their 
native hell. And yet in this moment of victory 
stands pitying His enemy rather than glorying in 
His own achievements. I can but think: "Surely, 
His ways are not our ways ; neither are His 
thoughts our thoughts." 

Another picture that impresses me very much 
is " Age Offering the Things of the Present to the 
Man of the Future." An old man is holding out 
to a young lad flags and sceptres representing 
Power and Dominion; also glittering diamonds, 
a golden harp, a name and a book, emblematic, 
respectively, of wealth, pleasure, fame and knowl- 
edge. He can take any one, but only one. I am 
so afraid that the inexperienced youth will make 
a wrong choice, that I want to whisper in his ear: 
"Take wisdom; take understandingr; forg-et it not. 
Forsake her not, and she shall preserve thee ; 
love her, and she shall keep thee. Wisdom is the 
principal thing, therefore get wisdom. Exalt her, 
and she will promote thee, she will bring thee to 
honor." 



CHAPTER XVI. 



FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE. 



Brussels — Its Laces and Carpets — Belgium a Small Country — Cultivated like a 
Garden — Into Germany — Aix-La-Chapelle — Birthplace of Charlemagne — Cap- 
ital of Holy Roman Empire — Cathedral Built by Charlemagne — A Strange 
Legend — Shrine of the Four Relics — A Pulpit Adorned with Ivory and Studded 
with Diamonds — Cologne — Its Inhabitants — Its Perfumery — Its Cathedral — A 
Ponderous Bell — A Church Built of Human Bones — Sailing up the Rhine — A 
River of Song — Bonn — Its University^Birthplace of Beethoven — Feudal 
Lords — The Bloody Rhine — Dragon's Rock — A Combat with a Serpent — A 
Convent with a Love Story — Empress of the Night — Intoxicated — Coblentz — 
A Tramp-Trip through Germany — Sixteen Thousand Soldiers Engaged in 
Battle — Enchanted Region — Loreli — -Son-in-Law of Augustus Caesar — Birth- 
place of Gutenberg, the Inventor of Printing. 



BRUSSELS is noted the world over for its 
fine laces and superior carpets. The King- 
dom of Belgium is very little larger than the 
state of Connecticut, and yet it maintains a stand- 
ing army of 50,000 men, while the whole of the 
United States has a standing army of only 36,000. 
The large army, together with the maintenance of 
the royal family, impose upon the people a very 
burdensome taxation. The people here know 
very little about improved implements of any 
kind, their work being done mostly by main 
strength and native awkwardness. Belgium is 
cultivated like a garden, and is as pretty as a pic- 
ture. 

We now leave Belgium. As the train dashes 
across an imaginary line, "a change comes o'er the 



156 P^ROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE. 

scene." The soldiers wear a different uniform, the 
people speak a different language, pay homage to 
a different king, and handle a different money. 
Money, however, is a scarce article in this portion 
of the moral vineyard. 

I have always associated the name of Charle- 
magne with Aix-la-Chapelle. It is, therefore, with 
no little interest that I visit this ancient and 
historical city. I find this place of 80,000 inhab- 
itants beautifully situated in the midst of a fertile 
valley surrounded by gently sloping hills. This 
was the birthplace and favorite residence of Char- 
lemagne, the Julius Caesar of the eighth century. 
This venerable place was the second city of im- 
portance in the holy Roman Empire, its being the 
capital of Charlemagne's dominions north of the 
Alps. Here thirty-seven emperors were crowned ; 
here ecclesiastical convocations assembled, and 
from here imperial edicts went forth. 

The Cathedral, or Muenster, built (796-804) by 
Charlemagne still stands, and is one of the most 
interesting objects in the city. On the right of 
the principal entrance to the Cathedral is a brazen 
wolf. According to the legend connected with this 
quadruped, the funds for the erection of the church 
having run short, the devil offered to supply the 
deficiency on condition that the first living being 
that entered the house should be sacrificed to 
himself. The magistrate entered into the com- 
pact, but defrauded the devil of his expected 



FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE. I57 

reward by admitting a wolf into the sacred edifice 
immediately on its -completion. 

I seat myself in the Imperial Throne of Charle- 
magne, in which also his remains reposed for more 
than 350 years, having been found by Otho III, 
who opened the tomb in the eleventh century. 
In the Cathedral Treasury is the famous "Shrine 
of the Four Relics." It is composed of the pur- 
est gold, and is studded with fifteen hundred 
precious stones. This shrine is said to contain 
the robes of the Virgin Mary, the swaddling 
clothes of the infant Christ, the bloody cloth in 
which the body of John the Baptist was wrapped, 
and the linen cloth with which the Savior was 
girded on the Cross. The relics are shown only 
once in seven years, on which occasion thousands 
of people flock to see them notwithstanding the 
exorbitant charges made. It has now been six 
years since the last exhibition took place. The 
next time for robbing the superstitious people is 
close at hand. 

The pulpit, presented by Henry II, of Ger- 
many, is a gem of beauty, being richly adorned 
with gold, carved ivory, diamonds, and other prec- 
ious stones. I dare say, however, that this Rom- 
ish pulpit, as splendid as it is, has seldom be^n 
adorned with the precious truths of God's blessed 
Word. 

In three hours after leaving Aix-la-Chapelle, 
Cologne is in sight, Coleridge sarcastically says: 




STRASBURG CATHEDRAL. 



FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE. I 59 

" Cologne has nine separate and distinct stinks ; 
It is washed by the river Rhine, 
But what power divine 
Shall henceforth wash the river Rhine?" 

It is not at all inappropriate therefore that 
Cologne should lead the world in the manufac- 
ture of perfumery. The city boasts 140,000 in- 
habitants, the most of whom are Roman Catholics. 
A bridge of boats connects Cologne with a large 
city on the opposite side of the river. 

To the visitor, the object of the greatest inter- 
est in the city is the Cathedral, which is said to 
be the most magfnificent Gothic edifice in the 
world. It certainly takes the palm over anything 
I have seen. It is wholly unnecessary for me to 
describe this wonderful building to those who 
have seen it, and it is impossible to describe it to 
those who have not seen it. I hardly know 
whether one is most filled with admiration, or 
struck with awe, as he beholds this great temple 
whose foundation stone, was laid six hundred 
years ago. To go around it, one must walk an 
eighth of a mile ; and yet he forgets the distance 
as he looks upon the massive walls rising one 
hundred and fifty feet above him; as he views the 
arched roof more than two hundred feet high; as 
he eyes the tapering spires which seem to pierce 
the bended sky. And yet there is hardly a square 
foot, even of the exterior of this architectural 
wonder, that is not carved and chiseled in the 
most exquisite manner imaginable. The princi- 



l60 FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE. 

pal entrance to the Cathedral is a door-way, 
thirty-one by ninety-three feet. On the inside, 
one sees a forest of pillars, fifty-six in number, ap- 
parently thirty or forty feet in circumference, and 
rising, some one hundred and others two hundred 
feet high. The aisles are twenty, thirty, and sixty 
feet wide. Some of the windows are twenty by 
fifty feet. These stained-glass windows and mar- 
ble pillars have been presented by the kings and 
queens and emperors of different countries. The 
inside is profusely adorned and decorated with 
statues, carvings, paintings and sculpture work of 
every kind and character. 

The Cathedral bell is seventeen feet across, and 
weighs twenty-three tons. To ring it requires 
fifteen men. As I stand upon the tower, five 
hundred and thirty-seven feet above the earth, 
men in the streets look like little children, and 
the business houses resemble play-things. This 
elevation affords a fine view of the surrounding 
country. I can trace the Rhine and its tributar- 
ies for more than twenty miles. Winding around 
among the hills and grain fields, these streams, 
gleaming in the sunlight, look like silver threads. 
I say to my friend: "Ah! behold the 'silver 
threads among the gold.'" Although I have 
climbed this spire to the enormous height of 537 
feet, yet above me is a delicate golden ladder; 
and, as it was placed here to enable the angels to 
ascend and descend, I quietly descend. 

The church of St. Ursula is one of the curiosi- 



FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE. l6l 

ties of the city. St. Ursula was an English prin- 
cess who, according to the tradition, when on her 
return from a pilgrimage to Rome, in the second 
century after Christ, was barbarously murdered at 
Cologne with eleven thousand other Christians, 
most of whom were young women. They were 
all buried in the same grave. Some time in the 
eleventh century the grave was opened, the bones 
taken out, and, on the spot of the grave, the 
present church was built to the memory of these 
martyred virgins. These bones form part of the 
walls of the church; some of them, also, are pre- 
served in glass cases, and placed around in the 
audience-room. Johnson supposes this is done 
to inspire in the worshipper a devotional spirit, or, 
perchance, to remind him of Ezekiel's valley of 
dry bones. Near the pulpit is a beautiful monu- 
ment to Princess Ursula. The statue is of ala- 
baster, with a laurel wreath about her brow and 
a white dove at her feet. 

The Rhine is, indeed, a majestic river. Its 
broad bosom floats hundreds of vessels, laden 
with the produce of its fertile valley, and thou- 
sands of tourists from all parts of Europe and 
America. At Cologne, we embark on the "Vic- 
toria," and start up the "legendary stream." As 
our graceful bark glides off over the smooth 
waters, we turn our eyes back toward Cologne for 
a last, long look. And what a pleasing picture it 
is to behold the city with its "girdle of fortifica- 
tions," to see the splendid cathedrals and numer- 



1 62 FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE, 

ous towers outlined against the sky! Cologne 
has scarcely vanished from our sight when Bonn 
appears. Here we disembark. A few hours suf- 
fice to go through the University, to inspect the 
Cathedral, to see the bronze statue, and visit the 
birthplace of the great musical genius, Beethoven, 
born in 1770 and died in 1827. 

After leaving Bonn, the scenery is more pic- 
turesque and beautiful. On either side of the 
swiftly-flowing stream, the overhanging cliffs rise 
high, one above another, each being crowned with 
a ruined castle, whose long, winding corridors and 
pictured walls once resounded with mirth and 
music. High perched upon these basaltic rocks, 
and surrounded by almost impregnable walls, 
feudal lords once held despotic sway. It really 
seems that the once thirsty swords have been 
beaten into plowshares, and the spears into prun- 
ing hooks, for the fruitful vine now flourishes 
along the "bloody Rhine," from its water's edge 
to the height of the castled crags. Even the 
crevices in the high cliffs are planted with the 
vine. This scene inspired Lord Byron to sing 
the following beautiful song: 

"The castled crag of Drachenfels 

Frowns o'er the wide and winding Rhine 
Whose breast of waters broadly smiles 
Between the banks which bear the vine ; 

I And hills all rich with blossom'd trees, 

And fields which produce corn and wine, 



FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE. 1 63 

And scatter'd cities crowning these, 

Whose far white walls along them shine, 

Have strew'd a scene which I should see 
With double joy wert thou with me." 

We land at Konig-swinter (King's Winter), and 
ascend the bluff, nine hundred and eighty feet 
above the Rhine, to the Castle of Drachenfels, or 
dragon's rock. This Castle commands the most 
extensive view of any on the Rhine. In descend- 
ing, we visit the curious cave which, according to 
a mythical story, was once the dwelling-place of a 
huge serpent who jealously guarded the pass and 
allowed no one to ascend the cliff. A brave 
knight slew the dragon, and after bathing himself 
in its blood, became invulnerable and mighty in 
strength. He then built the Castfe on the uplifted 
rock, and made himself lord of the surrounding 
country. 

Just as the sun sets, we approach the beautiful 
island of Nonenwerth where, half hidden beneath 
the rich foliage, we see an old convent. Just 
above this floating island, rises a huge rock whose 
summit was once crowned with a splendid castle, 
of which only one crumbling arch now remains. 
The legendary history connecting the castle and 
convent is as beautiful as it is touching. Just 
after the time of Charlemagne, a brave and gal- 
lant knight, by the name of Roland, paid court to 
the beautiful and accomplished Princess Hilde- 
gude. The affection was reciprocated, and the 
two soon became afiftanced lovers. At this time, 



FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UPTHE RHINE. 1 65 

Roland was summoned by his king to the Cru- 
sade. Time sped on, and anxiously did the de- 
voted Hildegude look for his return. But, alas ! 
she received tidings of his death. Straightway 
for her all beauty faded from every earthly ob- 
ject. She therefore gave her heart to God, and 
her body to the convent on the adjacent island. 
The sad news, however, proved untrue. Roland 
had been wounded but not fatally. All during 
his absence the fires of love burned brightly upon 
the altars of devotion. With joyous anticipation, 
he returned to receive the hand of her whose 
radiant smile was the light of his life. But, alas! 
poor Roland! He found that his lady-love was in 
that living tomb from which death alone could 
set her free. Broken-hearted, he built the castle, 
one moldering arch of which still stands, and 
there lived in solitude and wretchedness, catching 
an occasional glimpse of his imprisoned love. 
After her death, he spoke no more until he pass- 
ed beyond the stars to meet her who anxiously 
awaited his coming. 

The last rays of the setting sun light the lamps 
of night, and it seems as if each star tries to out- 
shine every other one. The moon, with these 
brightly-beaming stars as her attendants, comes 
forth as "Empress of the Night." Standing on 
deck and looking out over the scene, I find that 
moon and stars are pouring a perfect flood of 
glory over tower, and castle, and crag, and cliff, 
and wooded hill. 



l66 FROM BELGIUM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE. 

By this time we are so completely intoxicated 
with pleasure that we think it best not to indulge 
any longer. So, as the clerk of the boat calls out, 
"Coblentz," we step ashore, and one hour later 
we are dreaminp^ about what we had seen durino- 
the day. Next morning, as the sun first peeps 
over the eastern hills, he finds the pedestrians on 
their way to Ems, a beautiful little city nestling 
among the wooded hUls of Germany. The walk 
proves a delightful exercise; and before the dew 
is off the grass, we are seated in Ems on the bank 
of the river which flows through the city. This 
was a favorite resort of the late Emperor William 
during the summer. On the way to Ems, we have 
the pleasure of witnessing a sham battle between 
several thousand German soldiers. No one is 
killed. One officer is badly hurt by his horse 
falling on him. 

Before eleven o'clock, we are again gliding up 
the river. We seem now to have entered an en- 
chanted region. No description we have ever 
read of the Rhine could equal the sight itself. 
Here 

"The noble river foams and flows, 

The charm of the enchanted ground, 
And all its thousand turns disclose 
Some fresh beauty varying round." 

The channel now becomes narrow, the stream 
swift and deep. As we pass castle after castle 
and behold the wrecks and ruins, we feel that we 
are "passing back down the stream of time." 



FROM BELGIUiM TO COLOGNE AND UP THE RHINE. 1 67 

Here on the left is the Loreli, a great rock rising 
up more than four hundred feet. According to 
the legend, a nymph had her dwelling in a cavern 
of this rock, and, with the music which issued 
forth from her golden harp, she enticed sailors 
and fishermen to their destruction in the terrific 
whirlpools and rapids at the foot of the precipice. 
Passingr the national monument erected in hon- 
or of Germany's victory over France, in 1870, and 
Binofen, "fair Bin^en on the Rhine," we come at 
length to Mayence, a frontier town of fifty thou- 
sand inhabitants, strongly fortified with a garri- 
son of thirty thousand soldiers. Mayence was 
founded B. C. 14, by Drusus, the son-in-law of 
Julius Caesar. Here the grandsons of Charle- 
magne met to divide his mighty empire into 
Germany, France, and Italy. This is the birth- 
place of Gutenberg who, in 1440, invented the art 
of printing. Mayence has shown her high appre- 
ciation of that gifted son of genius by erecting 
the handsome "Gutenberg Statue." 



CHAPTER XVI L 



FROM FRANKFORT TO WORMS. 



Frankfort-on-th2-Main — Met at Depot b/ a Committee — Frankfort, the Home of 
Culture and Art — Birthplace of Goethe — "He Preaches like a God " — The 
Home of Rothchild — A Visit to his House — Worms and its History — Luther 
and a Bad Diet — Luther Monument — Theses Nailed on the Door— Fame of 
Luther and his Followers more Imperishable than their Bronze Statues. 



FROM Mayence, I run up to pay my respects 
to Frankfort (ford of the Franks)-on-the- 
Main; and right royal is the reception ex- 
tended me. The good people of this classic city 
seem, really glad to see me, especially the hotel 
keepers. Reader, you can scarcely imagine what 
a pleasure it is to a way-worn pilgrim, as he enters 
a great city in a foreign country, to be met by a 
committee consistino- of a full score of hotel clerks 
and porters, and half a hundred hack drivers! As 
the traveler steps off the train, he is approached 
by the different members of the committee, each 
of whom tries to be more kind and obliging than 
any of the others. Indeed, the honored visitor is 
well-nigh overcome with gratitude, as he sees these 
committeemen crowding round him on all sides, 
each with an expectant look, a face wreathed with 
smiles, and a palm itching to get hold of his purse 
strincrs. Such was the welcome pfiven me at 
Frankfort-on-the-Main, which city, though it dates 



FROM rUANKFORT TO WORMS. 1 69 

back from the time of Charlemagne, 775, is now 
as fresh and fair as a sixteen year old maiden 
with blue eyes and golden hair. 

Frankfort is about the size of Rochester, New 
York, is a place of great commercial importance, 
and, according to population, is by far the wealthi- 
est city in Germany. It claims two hundred 
millionaires. 

The museum and art galleries here are of the 
highest type. I can not use the brush, palette, and 
easel myself, but some pictures throw a spell over 
me that I can not shake off Murillo's "Madonna 
Enthroned," Overbeck's "Triumph of Religion in 
the Arts," Rembrandt's "Parable of the Laborers 
in the Vineyard," are indelibly stamped on the 
imperishable tablets of memory ; their gilded 
frames I have entwined with a garland of forget- 
me-nots, and with golden cord of appreciation I 
have hung them up in the art gallery of the soul. 
And, if as Keats says, and as I believe, "A thing 
of beauty is a joy forever," then will my visit to 
Frankfort-on-the-Main be a blessing to me until 
the silver cord be loosed, and the golden bowl of 
life broken. 

This is the birthplace of Goethe, the Shake- 
speare of Germany, His splendid monument 
stands in the centre of one of the public squares 
of the city. The pedestal on which the bronze 
statue rests is relieved by raised figures, those on 
one side being taken from "Faust," and the other 
from "Hermann and Dorothea." The first is one 



170 FROM FRANKFORT TO WORMS. 

of the most masterly productions that ever ema- 
nated from the human brain, and the second one 
of the sweetest love stories ever embalmed in 
verse. Carlyfe says of Goethe : "There was none 
like him; he knew everything." If Germany ever 
produced Goethe's equal, it was his bosom friend 
Schiller, whose life-like statue adorns another of 
the public squares of Frankfort, Seeing- these 
-two statues, I involuntarily look around for that of 
Herder. I always think of Goethe, Schiller and 
Herder as the inseparable trio. 

The well-known millionaire, M. A. Rothschild 
who, I believe was at one time the richest man on 
earth, was born in Frankfort. The family still 
lives, and do a large business here. Through the 
influence of a friend, I gain an entrance to Roths- 
child's house and private museum, which one may 
well imagine contains an elegant collection of cu- 
riosities from all parts of the world. One gold 
vase alone, set with diamonds and other preious 
stones, is said to have cost 800,000 marks or 
$200,000. 

The next place the traveler hangs his hat on 
the wall is here in Worms. Ah, what a history 
has this quaint old German town ! How many 
thrilling incidents have taken place on its narrow 
streets during the last fifteen hundred years! But 
Worms is of more than a greneral interest to the 
world, since it was the scene of Luther's fiercest 
struggle with Rome. In March, 1521, Luther was 
summoned to appear before the Diet, or Supreme 



KKOM FRANKFORT TO WORMS. 171 

Court, of half the World, assembled at Worms, 
under the presidency of Charles V. With Napo- 
leonic courage, Luther answered the call in per- 
son. As the bold reformer on his way to trial 
passed through Eisenach, where he had sung 
carols on the street for bread, his friends met him 
with the warning: "They will burn you as they 
did John Huss;" to which he replied; "Though 
they should build a fire from Worms to Witten- 
berg and reaching to the sky, I would pass through 
it in the name of the Lord." As he was approach- 
ing the city, Spalatin sent a messenger with an- 
other warning. This time the monk responded : 
"Go tell your master that if there were as many 
devils in Worms as there are tiles upon the house- 
tops, I would enter." He did enter, and the next 
day became a turning point in the world's history 
It was then that this "Christian Hercules, this 
heroic cleanser of the Augean stable of apostacy," 
went forth in the arena of debate to shiver lances 
with kings and popes and princes. Being severely 
in earnest, grandly right, and divinely appointed 
to his office, he hurled his arguments like wither- 
ing blighting thunder-bolts. And, if the enemy 
now and then put in hard licks, Luther, being pos- 
sessed of a cool head, quick wit, and boundless 
resources, revived like the vigor of vegetation 
after the stunning blow had fallen. He stood 
until there was not a man to meet him. The 
haughty hierarchy which he assailed had "bound 
kings in chains, and nobles in fetters of iron; but 



172 FROM FRANKP'ORT TO WORMS. 

before the fire of his quenchless zeal those fetters 
fell, fused as by the lightning touch of Heaven." 

It is only in accordance with the "eternal fit- 
ness of things," therefore, that we find in Worms 
a monument memorializing this severe conflict 
and brilliant victory of the intrepid reformer. 

As we enter the town from the railway sta- 
tion, we pass through the Luther-Platz (place or 
square), in the center of which stands the Luther 
Monument, which was erected in 1868 at a cost of 
$85,000. The monument is on this wise. There 
is a massive platform of granite, forty-eight feet 
square and nine and one-half feet high, bearing in 
its centre a large pedestal, also of granite. This 
pedestal is surmounted by another in bronze, 
adorned with reliefs representing four scenes in 
Luther's life. In the first, we see him administer- 
ing the communion as a Catholic priest; second, 
he is nailing his theses on the church door in 
Wittenberg; next, we see him defending himself 
at Worms; and, last, he is translating the Bible 
into his native language. 

Now, upon this pedestal, whose sides are thus 
adorned, stands the bronze statue of Luther, elev- 
en feet in height, a commanding figure. In his 
left hand he holds a Bible, on which his right 
hand is placed emphatically, while his face, on 
which faith is admirably portrayed, is turned up- 
wards. John Huss, Savonarola, John Wycliffe, 
and Peter Waldus are sitting at the four corners 
of the large pedestal on which Luther stands. 



FROM FRANKFORT TO WORMS. 1 73 

From the four corners of the large platform, 
rise four granite pedestals, not so large as the 
central one. On these four pedestals stand bronze 
statues of Luther's fellow champions, Malancthon, 
Reuchlin, on one side, and Philip of Hesse and 
Frederick the Wise of Saxony, his princely pro- 
tectors, on the other. The four last-named stat- 
ues are each nine feet high. Taken all in all, this 
is one of the finest and most impressive monu- 
ments I have seen. And why should it not be so? 
These men have justly been called the thunderers, 
the cloud compellers, the world uplifters, the ham- 
mers of the Lord, the pioneers of progress, the 
liberators of mankind, 

"Whose names are ever on the world's broad tongue, 
Like sound upon the falUng of a force ; 
Who play upon our hearts as upon a harp, 
And make our eyes bright as we speak of them." 



CHAPTER XVIII. 



GERMAN BAPTISTS. 



BY WALTER RAUSCHENBUSCH. 



A Weak Beginning — Persecutions — Firm Faith — Rapid Growth — A Trio of Lead- 
ers — Theological Schools — Publishing House — Hopeful Outlook. 



THE American traveler in Germany has to 
seek for the Baptist churches, if he is to find 
them. His Baedeker has no star to point 
them out, and their commanding spires will not 
arrest his eye as he strolls through the streets. 
The church at Hamburg is the only one that is 
notable as a piece of architecture; and its arches, 
though the delight of lovers of the Gothic, are the 
despair of preachers. Many of the churches still 
worship in halls, and some of these halls are none 
too prominent. The writer of this sketch remem- 
bers looking for the Baptist church in alarge city of 
Southern Germany. He followed his clew into a 
narrow street, then through an overhanging arch- 
way into a still narrower court, up two flights of 
stairs to a door from which his knock drew no 
voice nor sound of an answer. The Baptist church 
at Leipzig has its place of worship in one of the 
suburbs, about three miles from the centre of the 
city, and away from the bulk of the membership. 



GERMAN BAPTISTS. I 75 

How many of those who have studied there know 
that there Is a Baptist church in Leipzig? Of 
course our Baptist Brethren do not choose ob- 
scurity and inconvenience from any predilection 
for them, but from due defference to the ever- 
present question of rent. Ground is high, and 
Baptist money scarce. 

However, many of the churches have gradually 
worked their way to the possession of chapels of 
their own. But even these present no very 
churchly appearance. The ground has to be 
utalized carefully. Dwelling apartments have to 
be built over, or under, or in front of, or back of, 
the auditorium of the church, sufficient at least 
to house the pastor, and often sufficient to bring 
an income that will carry the interest on the debt. 
But the work is growing. Better accommoda- 
tions are being secured. Even now there are 
chapels seating over a thousand people. Sev- 
eral churches in the large cities, for instance, at 
Berlin and Konigsberg, have two church build- 
ings, without, however, on that account dividing 
the church organization. 

The "statistics" for 1889 reports 106 churches 
with 20,416 members in Germany proper, and 123 
churches with 23,976 members in the entire "Bund," 
which includes the churches in Austria, Switzer- 
land, Holland, Roumania and South Africa, all of 
which are organically connected with the German 
Baptist Mission and off-shoots from it. Forty- 



176 GERMAN BAPTISTS. 

six churches in Russia with 12,448 members, and 
21 churches in Denmark with 2,711 members, 
which formerly belonged to the German "Bund," 
have recently formed organizations of their own. 
It is wonderful to think that such a growth has 
been attained within so short a time. It was only 
in 1834 that the first seven believers were baptised 
in the Elbe by Professor Barnas Sears. Twenty- 
five years later, they had grown to a thousand 
times seven. 

The first twenty-five years were full of priva- 
tions and persecutions. The reader will under- 
stand that in Germany the maintenance and regu- 
lation of relig-ion is considered one of the duties 
of the State, and a disturbance of religious order 
was punishable by law, just as a disturbance of 
social order would be with us. It seemed out- 
rageous and detrimental to the interests of society 
that artisans and laborers should assume to teach 
and preach, and even to administer the ordin- 
ances. Existing laws were applied to them, or 
new laws were framed to meet their case. As 
late as 1852, a law was enacted in the principality 
of Biickeburg, a small state in northern Germany, 
providing that any emissary of the Baptists found 
within the boundaries of the principality should 
be imprisoned for four weeks, and that the pun- 
ishment should be doubled on a repetition of the 
offense. Any one attending the meetings was to 
be imprisoned for four weeks; any one conduct- 
ing them, for eight weeks ; any one baptising, or 



GERMAN BAPTISTS. 



// 



administering the Lord's Supper, for six months. 
One of the old veterans of those days has counted 
up that he was imprisoned thirty-three times, and 
in nineteen different jails. Nor were the jails 
very pleasant places to be in. But sometimes 
they turned even the prisons into places of joy 
and prayer. There is just a smack of holy malice 
in the story of one brother who tells how six 
of them were imprisoned together for holding a 
Baptist meeting. As soon as they were lodged 
in jail, they used the government's own house 
and the government's chairs to hold a glorious 
Baptist protracted meeting that lasted for four 
weeks. 

Still these imprisonments are pleasanter to tell 
about than to go through. They told on the 
health of the brethren. Their property was seized 
to pay fines. Their wives and little ones were left 
unprotected. Their earnings ceased during the 
imprisonment, and when they came out of prison 
they often found their occupation gone. But the 
men bred by those times were strong in the Lord, 
nothing daunted by the adversary, conscious that 
they were the soldiers of God, called, like Gideon, 
to do battle with a handful, but with the Lord on 
their side. Three men stand out as a kind of trio 
of leaders during those early years, Oncken, Leh- 
mann, and Kobner. Mr. Oncken was thirty-four 
years of age when he shared in that baptism by 
nipfht in the Elbe. God had taken him out of the 
rationalistic religion of his own country when he 



178 GERMAN BAPTISTS. 

was nineteen years old, and had sent him to Eng- 
land. He was converted there, and returned a few 
years later as a missionary of the British Conti- 
nental Society. He labored most faithfully for 
some years before he became a Baptist. He un- 
derstood the Scriptural doctrine of baptism sev- 
eral years before he had the opportunity to follow 
Christ in baptism. After that time, he pushed the 
work with great executive ability and intense earn- 
estness. He was a leader of men. He did great 
service to his brethren by his knowledge of Eng- 
lish, which enabled him to represent the cause in 
Great Britain and also in the United States, and 
to gain for it the financial and moral support of 
England and America which has been so helpful 
to the work. In 1879 he was paralyzed, and spent 
the last years of his life in forced retirement in 
Zurich. The active brain had become feeble. The 
only thing which rekindled the old fire in the dy- 
ing embers was prayer and the words of the Bible. 
He entertained his visitors by reciting, with evi- 
dent spiritual enjoyment, a verse from some fa- 
miliar hymn, and a few moments afterward he 
would repeat it over again, forgetting what he had 
just said. He died at the age of eighty-four, and 
was buried with all honors at Hamburg, on the 
eighth of January, 1884. His name will remain 
the great name in the early history of the Bap- 
tists of Germany. 

Another of the men just mentioned was G. W. 
Lehmann, born in 1799, an engraver and etcher by 



GERMAN BAPTISTS. I 79 

trade, and a missionary by divine vocation. He 
was one of the first six baptised by Oncken, in 
Berlin, in 1837. He believed in a special man- 
ner in the power of the union of believers. He 
organized ; he drew the churches together in as- 
sociations ; he constituted himself a link between 
them by ceaseless itinerant missionary labor. 
He died at Berlin in 1882. The writer met him 
there shortly before his death. His powers, also, 
had been broken by age. But his face was of 
rare sweetness, and his prayers, though broken 
and full of repetitions, still had the unction of 
former days. 

The third of this noble triumvirate was Julius 
Kbbner, born in 1807 in Denmark. He was a Jew 
by birth. His father was a Chief Rabbi, and saw 
to it that his son was instructed in all the learn- 
i of the law. But the young man heard the mes- 
sage of the crucified Messiah and believed. He 
was baptised in 1830, and rendered valuable ser- 
vice to the cause, both in Denmark and Germany. 
He was not a man of action so much as of thought 
and feeling. There was a mystic glow of love and 
devotion in all he said. His poetic talent was of 
a very high order. He has greatly enriched Bap- 
tist hymnology. His chief work is a volume en- 
titled " Das Lied von Gott," describing God's cre- 
ative and redemptive work. It contains passages 
of great power, and has been highly commended 
by such literary authorities as Karl Gerok. His 
last years were spent at Elberfeld and Berlin. He 



l8o GERMAN BAPTISTS. 

had a. little daughter born to him in old age. It 
was very touching to see the old man with the 
sweet oriental face looking down at the little maid 
by his side as they took their walks together, each 
anxious to lead and care for the other. He, too, 
has now passed away. So has Claus Peters, who 
was a kind of bishop in all the region of Schleswig ; 
so have Bues and Gramme. Others of the first 
generation are now old. A new generation is 
growing up to solve new problems. There are 
many strong men among them, so many that it 
might be invidious to single out any for special 
mention. Those American travelers who have 
sought out the German pastors in the places 
where they stayed, have felt that they were amply 
rewarded by the contact with these faithful men 
of God. 

The men of the older generation were called 
directly from their trade to the ministry of the 
Word. They were taught in the school of life, 
and instructed by adversity. Attempts were 
made years ago to train the preachers. They 
were gathered by Oncken, or Kobner, or Ber- 
neike, for a few months of teaching. In 1880, a 
permanent school was established with seven 
pupils, and the late Reverend Moritz Geissler as 
professor. The school now has twenty-six stu- 
dents, two instructors in the secular branches, and 
two professors, J. G. Lehmann, a son of the older 
Lehmann, and J. G. Fetzer, of Rochester Sem- 
inary. The school has a four years' course, and 



GER'MAN BAPTISTS. 16 1 



an occasional partial course of one year for 
older men. The students were for a long time 
housed in very insufficient quarters near the 
Hamburg church; but, in 1888, a handsome build- 
ing was erected in Horn, a suburb of Hamburg, 
and the *chool is now well equipped and sure to 
influence the future of the German Baptists. 

The other great institution for the furtherance 
of the work is the publishing house. The dis- 
semination of Christian literature has, from the 
first, been one of the chief aims of our brethren. 
At first, Mr. Oncken obtained grants of Bibles 
and books from other societies; but the need of 
having a publishing house under his own control 
soon became apparent, and the first tract was 
published in 1834. Through its Connection with 
American and British tract and Bible societies, 
the society has been able to do an extensive 
work. The number of Bibles and Testaments 
sold during 1887 was 35,586 copies. Over three 
million pages of tracts were issued during the 
same year. A number of periodicals also issued 
from the press of the society. Sunday-school 
lesson papers are published. There is a paper 
called "Wort und Werk" for the young men, and 
another called "Tabea" for the young women. 
The most important paper is the "Wahrheits- 
zeuge," the regular organ of the denomination, 
which has recently become a weekly, and has a 
a circulation of over five thousand copies. Since 
1878, the business has been managed by Reverend 



162 GERMAN BAPTISTS. 

Philip Bickel, D, D,, formerly editor of the "Send- 
bote" at Cleveland, Ohio. He has, by the most 
painstaking work, diminished the indebtedness 
of the business, and steadily increased the scope 
of itswork. The colporteurs and volunteer work- 
ers of the German Baptist churches constitute an 
agency for the dissemination of Christian litera- 
ture which, for cheapness and effectiveness, is 
scarcely equalled anywhere. 

, The work is bound to grow. It is opposed by 
the conservatism and prejudice of the people, of 
the strength of which no one can have a concep- 
tion who has not put his shoulder against it and 
tried to budge it. The government, at least in 
the larger states, has taken a far more tolerant 
attitude; but complete religious liberty does not 
exist in Germany, nor will it exist until the State 
Churches have been disestablished, and the Ger- 
man nation has stripped from its limbs the last 
shackles of political absolutism and caste prerog- 
ative. Our churches are increasing in number in 
spite of the constant drain of emigration which 
takes from them their most properous and wide- 
awake members. But, aside from the actual gain 
of converts, our churches are doing the work of 
leavening thought by their literature, by their 
demonstration of the power of Christian fellow- 
ship as presented in a church of believers, and by 
the very general and extensive system of lay 
evangelization. In 1889, 190 churches reported 
1409 stations where the Word is preached at reg- 



GERMAN BAPTISTS, 1 83 

ular intervals. Our churches are the conductors 
of the evangelical thought and church methods 
of England and America. They have been pio- 
neers of Sunday-school work in Germany, and 
they are bound to influence its entire religious 
future. 



CHAPTER XIX. 



OUT OF GERMANY INTO SWITZERLAND. 



A Lesson from Nature — Tramp-Trip through the Black Forests — Heidelberg Cas- 
tle — Basil, Switzerland — Met by a Friend — Emigrants off for America — Deliv- 
ering an Address to the Emigrants — The Grave of Erasmus — Gateway to the 
Heart of the Alps — Snowy Peaks — Rendezvous of the Nations — Beautiful 
Scene — Moonlight on the Lake — Sweet Music — Pretty Girls — Mountains 
Shaken with Thunder and Wrapped with Fire. 



1 BELIEVE it was Zeno who said, "We have 
only one mouth, but two ears; whereby Na- 
ture teaches us that we should speak little, 
but hear much." So, having two eyes and only 
one pen, I must see much and write little. I shall 
not therefore pause, as I should like, to speak of 
a few charming days spent in walking through the 
"Black Forests" of Germany, nor of a visit to 
Heidelberg, beautiful for situation and famous 
for its university, 

" Half hidden in a gallery of pines, 
Nestling on the sunny slope." 

There is no more impressive sight in Germany 
than the ruins of the Heidelberg Castle, The re- 
mains of its frowning battlements, ivy-covered 
walls, and hanging gardens speak most eloquently 
of its former ereatness and erandeur. I can never 
foreet the moonlight nights that lohnson and I 
spend in Heidelberg, wandering up and down the 



OUT OF GERMANY INTO SWITZERLAND. I 85 

banks of the Neckar, listening to the music of her 
waters as they flow on to join the legendary Rhine, 
a few hundred yards below. 

Leaving Heidelberg at four o'clock in the morn- 
ing, we travel all day through a comparatively 
uninteresting country, reaching Basle, Switzerland, 
in time to break bread with a friend (?) who kindly 
sent a committee to the depot to meet us. The 
committee insisted on carrying us up from the 
station in a carriage, but we told them that as we 
had no exercise during the day, we preferred to 
walk and carry our own satchels. 

The day after arriving in Basle, we see a hun- 
dred and twenty-five German and Swiss emigrants 
starting for America. At the request of the 
emigration agent, who was possessed of much 
intelligence and good information, I make a speech 
to the emigrants the hour before their departure. 
I tell them not to stop around New York and 
Boston, but to go West. After speaking briefly 
of the advantages of the country, I tell them that 
America is not an Eden, but a wilderness; not a 
wilderness, either, where people are miraculously 
fed with manna, as were the Israelites of old, but 
one where the horny-handed sons of toil have to 
dig their bread out of the ground; yet it is a wil- 
derness which, when watered by the sweat of the 
brow, is transformed into a waving harvest field. 
I tell them that we invite immigration, not that 
we want foreigners to fill easy places and control 
political affairs ; that a few years ago there" were 



1 86 OUT OF GERMANY INTO SWITZERLAND. 

some men in Chicago, who went there with this 
false idea in their brains, and, in trying to run the 
government, they made a mistake and ran their 
heads into a halter. I insist that earnest, honest, 
persistent, and intelligent laborers are the kind 
of men we want; that such men are protected 
by law, and rewarded- with a comfortable living. 
After expressing the wish that they might be 
freed from sea-sickness while crossing the ocean, 
and from home-sickness after landing on the 
other side, I bid them adieu. 

A few days suffice to show us the parks, monu- 
ments, and public buildings of the city. Among 
the latter, is the time-honored cathedral in which 
rest the bones of Erasmus, the scholar of the Re- 
formation. 

It was two hours after leavingf Basle, before we 
could realize that we were in Switzerland. Now, 
however, a great mountain rose up before us. It 
was too long- to surround, and too high to sur- 
mount; hence, we had either to stand still, retreat, 
go under, or else go through the mountain. After 
boring our way through the solid rock for two 
miles, we come into the light on the opposite side. 
We find that this tunnel is only a gateway admit- 
ting us into the land of wonders, and to the heart 
of the Alps, a description of which will occupy the 
next chapter. 

We are now wild with delight, running first to 
one side of the car, and then to the other, to catch 
a momentary glimpse of the mountains as they 



OUT OF GERMANY INTO SWITZERLAND. 187 

dash by us. The snowy peaks now burst upon 
our vision, and, just as Johnson is getting ready 
to stand on his head, the brakesman shouts, 
"Lucerne! All out for Lucerne! " This announce- 
ment, of course, interrupts the proceedings of my 
traveling companion; hence, leather does not "go 
up," as I expected. 

We find Lucerne to be the general rendezvous 
of thousands of tourists who, in the search of 
health or pleasure, have come hither from Russia, 
Turkey, Greece, Hungary, and Asia Minor, from 
Germany, France, Italy, England and America. 
Sometimes, at the evening hour the different 
nationalities are represented in one room, and 
there follows a Babel of confusion. 

How beautiful and varied is the scene before 
me at this hour! It is a lovely moonlight night, 
and the lake shines bright and tranquil as a 
polished mirror. The laughing stars lie buried 
in the blue depths below. On the bosom of this 
fairy lake are scores of lover-laden row boats, 
shooting, turning, gliding, in every possible direc- 
tion. As the oars strike the water, they gleam in 
the moonlight like paddles of silver. There are 
two, four, or six persons in each boat. Several 
boats have now grouped together, and all have 
joined in singing "Moonlight on the Lake," and 
the soft music floats over the still waters until it 
dies away in the distance. There is a m-omentary 
pause. And now, just in front of the long line of 
four-story hotels, which are set back about one 



1 88 OUT OF GERMANY INTO SWITZERLAND. 

hundred feet from the lake, the Hungarian Band 
breaks forth and its wild melodies are echoed 
from the sorrounding hills. Next the Neapolitan 
Quartette causes a perfect uproar of laughter as 
it discourses the latest Italian comic songfs with 
banjo accompaniment. As the clock from the 
cathedral tower announces the hour of eleven, a 
change comes over the scene. The street lamps 
are extinguished, and the good-humored multi- 
tude pour forth their extravagant praises of the 
brilliant display of fireworks which are now filling 
the air with noise and showers of falling stars. 
Thus do tourists and visitors spend their summer 
evenings in this little town of Lucerne, this "Swiss 
Lady of the Lake." 

All through the month of Auorust, thunder- 
storms of unusual grandeur have been prevalent 
in Switzerland. Twenty-four hours ago, I wit- 
nessed a thunder-storm that made a lasting im- 
pression. It was twelve o'clock at night. The 
eveninof before all nature was in confusion. The 
angry clouds were like seething volcanoes, shoot- 
ing up their ♦thunderheads as if they would strike 
heaven in the face. Behind these cloud-battal- 
ions, which were constantly forming and reform- 
ing in ranks of war, the sun was skirmishing. 
Now and then his fiery darts would pierce the 
serrate columns, but immediately they would close 
up the gap and shut out the sun. As if given up 
in despair, he retired behind the western hills. 
The world was then locked in the embrace of 



OUT OF GERMANY INTO SWITZERLAND. 1 89 

night, and given over to the remorseless storm- 
god. The angry clouds .began to gather from 
the east and west and north and south, growing 
denser and darker- as they came. Muttering 
thunder could be heard in the distance. At last 
the crisis came. One blinding flash of lightning 
followed another. The lakes roared. The earth 
moved. The mountains reeled ! Thunder answer- 
ed thunder! Deep called unto deep! The peaks, 
like mountain monarchs, seemed to be quarreling 
with each other; each peak had a voice and each 
glen an echo! One moment all was painfully 
dark, and the next a mighty sheet of flame could 
be seen falling from the clouds upon the mountain 
tops. There it lingered for a moment, and then, 
rolling itself into billows, it came dashing down 
the rocky steeps like cataracts of fire, turning 
night into day and revealing a hundred snow- 
capped peaks around. 



CHAPTER XX. 

SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 



Alpine Fever — Flags of Truce — Schiller and the Swiss Hero — Tell's Statue and 
Chapel — Ascent of the Rigi — Beautiful Scenery — Famous Falls — Rambles in 
the Mountains — Glaciers — The Matterhorn — Yung Frau — Ascent of Mount 
Blanc- An Eagle in the Clouds— Switzerland and her People — The Oldest Re- 
public in the World — " Home, Sweet Home '' — High Living — Land Owners — 
Alpine Folk — Night Spent in a Swiss Chalet — Johnson in Trouble — Walk of 
Six Hundred Miles — Famous Alpine Pass — A Night above the Clouds — Saint 
Bernard Hospice — Overtaken in a Snow-.-torm — Hunting Dead Men — The 
Alps as a Monument — Geneva — Prison of Chilon — How Time was Spent — 
Tongue of Praise. 



1HAVE been in Switzerland only a few days 
before I take what the people here call the 
Alpine fever. It affects my blood ; it gets into 
my very bones. I can feel it in every limb at 
every breath. I consult no physician — I need 
none. I know full well that the only cure for my 
disease is to get out among the mountains and 
there commune with Nature and Nature's God. 
I did not come to Switzerland to hear fine music, 
or to be initiated into the mysteries of fashiona- 
ble hotel life. I came to enjoy the wild and rug- 
ged scenery of the Alps. It seems, too, that it 
takes more to satisfy me than it does most peo- 
ple. They tell me they came here for the same 
purpose that I did, and yet they are quite content 
to remain in the cities and behold the mountains 
afar off. Not so with me. The moment I behold 



SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. I9I 

the gleaming snow on the uplifted mountains, I 
see that it is not a scarlet ensign indicative of 
wrath, war, and bloodshed. No, the signal is 
white, the flag of truce, the emblem of peace, of 
innocence and purity. Hence, I am not repelled 
but wonderfully drawn by the mountains. I can 
but repeat the language that Schiller put into the 
mouth of his Swiss hero, William Tell: 

" There is a charm about them, that is certain — 
Seest thou yon mountains with their snowy peaks 
Melting into and minghng with the sky ?" 

I think, too, of the wifely warning that Hedwige 
ofave Tell : 

"Thou never leav'st me but my heart grows cold 
And shrinks, as though each farewell were the last — 
I see thee midst the frozen wilderness, 
Missing, perchance, thy leap o'er some dark gulf, 
Or whirl'd down headlong with the struggling chamois ; 

"I see the avalanche close o'er thy head. 
The treacherous ice give way beneath thy feet — 
And thee — the victim of a living grave ! 
Death, in a thousand varying shapes, waylays 
The Alpine traveler. 'Tis a hazardous and fearful trade ! " 

The husband's reply was: 

" He who trusts in God, and to those powers which God hath 
given him, 
May guard himself from almost every danger. 
These mountains have no terrors for their children." 

And I am for the time being a child of the Alps, 
I have a mountaineer's spirit in me, and I say: 







192 



GRIESSBACH FALLS. 



SWITEZRLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. I93 

"I will go!" The next thing is to secure an 
Alpine outfit, which consists of spiked shoes, an 
Alpenstock, an ice ax and a rope. These thino-s 
in our hands and neatly strapped on our backs, 
Johnson and I leave the social haunts of men, 
and start out to "do the Alps." On the "Rain- 
bow," we sail over Lake Lucerne from end to 
end. We then walk to Fluelen and Altdorf, 
where is laid the scene of Schiller's immiortal 
play, "William Tell." We see Tells statue, erect- 
ed on the spot where with crossbow he shot the 
apple off his son Walter's head. We visit the 
place where during a raging storm. Tell sprang 
from the boat upon a projecting rock, thereby 
saving himself from the dungeon, and rescuing 
Switzerland from the hands of tyranny. We 
climb the Rigi, the mountain that gave Mark 
Twain so much trouble. Standing upon its ele- 
vated summit, we look down upon eleven silvery 
lakes spread out in the valleys 5.000 feet below. 
We now strike out over Briining Pass for Brienz 
and Interlaken. The most interesting object 
during this delightful sail was the famous Griess- 
bach Falls. As the steamer approaches, all eyes 
are fixed upon the rushing torrent whose foaming 
waters, eager to escape from their mountain 
prison, burst forth from the mountain side, and 
leap from rock to rock until they mingle with the 
placid lake 1,200 feet below! 

Interlaken, as its name indicates, is between the 
lakes, Brienz and Thun. This is not a city, but a 



194 SWITZERLAND AS SEEN OM FOOT. 

small, characteristic Swiss village, hemmed in by 
two lakes, and two mountains, whose precipitous 
sides are feathered over with fir trees. Indeed, 
the surroundings are so picturesque and beautiful 
that we make Hotel de Nord headquarters for 
several days, during which time we make several 
delightful excursions on and around the lakes. 
Our stay is made more pleasant because of the 
company of L. Woodhull and J, A. Worthman, 
of Dayton, Ohio; but theirs is a flying trip, hence 
we are soon separated. 

We now penetrate the very heart of the Alps. 
We spend a month, and walk more than five 
hundred miles, creeping through the windings of 
the mountains; in following up streams to their 
sources; in crossing narrow chasms whose yawn- 
ing depths even now make me dizzy when I think 
of them; in climbing rugged peaks where one 
false step would have dashed us against the jag- 
ged rocks, two, three, and sometimes four, thou- 
sand feet below; in letting ourselves down by 
ropes into deep gorges on whose rocky floor ray 
of sun or moonbeam has never fallen; in travers- 
ing seas of ice or glacier fields, two of which, the 
Rhone and the Aletsch glaciers, are the most 
extensive in the Alps, being fifteen miles long 
and from one to three miles wide. 

Reader, stand with me for a moment upon the 
banks of this Swiss river, and we shall find it 
worthy of the world of savage grandeur through 
which it passes. The river is quite narrow. Its 



SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 1 95 

rocky bed is full three hundred feet below the 
banks on which we stand. The water dashes by 
us with such force and velocity that, as it strikes 
the rocks and bowlders in the stream, the spray 
rises up for a hundred feet or more. The light 
of the sun shininor through the rising mist flines a 
radiant rainbow on the opposite wall of rock. 

Mountains rise up abruptly on either side of 
the river. On the opposite side of the stream 
from where we stand, a mountain rises up steeply 
for six, eight, nine, thousand feet. Away up there 
9,000 feet above the world, on the broad top of 
the mountain, there is an everlasting lake filled 
from Heaven's founts, baring its blue bosom to 
the blue sky. Around this "lake of the gods,' 
and also from its centre, Alpine peaks lift their 
grey and ghastly heads up against the sky, as if 
to support the blue dome of Heaven, lest the 
moon and the stars extinguish themselves in the 
crystal sea. And that is not all. The water, as 
if tired of its home in the skies, breaks over its 
rocky prison walls; and, in a perpetual stream 
eighteen inches deep and thirty feet wide, it 
comes, churned into madness and foam — comes 
madly dashing and splashing down the mountain 
side "for 9,000 feet at an angle of seventy-five 
degrees. Finally with the swiftness of an arrow 
the maddened stream leaps into the river, and we 
stand on the banks and look down on the "hoarse 
torrent's foaming breath below." 



196 SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 

"We gaze and turn away and know not where, 
Dazzled and drunk with beauty, till the heart 
Reels with its fullness, there — forever there — 
Chain'd to the chariot of Nature's triumphal Art 
We stand as captives, and would not depart." 

Baedeker truly says: "The glacier — the most 
Striking feature of the Alpine world — is a stupen- 
dous mass of purest azure ice." No scene in 
Switzerland is so strikingly and so strangely 
beautiful as when, in some fertile and wooded 
valley, the glittering pinnacles of a glacier are 
suddenly presented to our gaze, in the immediate 
proximity of wheat fields, fruit trees, smiling mea- 
dows and human habitations. These extensive 
glaciers are long arms of solid ice, resembling a 
thousand frozen cataracts, occupying entire val- 
leys, and attaining a thickness estimated at 1,500 
feet. The surface of these glaciers is by no means 
smooth and repfular. Here one frownino" terrace 
rises above another ; there the glacier swells and 
rises into huge pinnacles and towering pyramids 
of purest ice. Again the surface is torn into 
every conceivable shape by great crevasses which 
sometimes sink to an enormous depth. In cross- 
ing these glaciers, guides, spiked shoes, Alpen- 
stocks, strong ropes, and ice axes are indispens- 
able. The rope is tied around the waist of each 
one of us, guides and all, leaving eight or ten feet 
of rope between each two persons, one guide at 
each end of the rope. Thus we, "with cautious 
step and slow," start across a sea of ice, all follow- 




A GLACIKR IN SWITZERLAND. 



198 SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 

ing the foremost guide and stepping in his tracks. 
Sometimes every foothold has to be cut with an 
ax. Now we come to a deep crevasse into which 
we are let down by a rope. Once safely down 
the guide cuts our way in the ice until we gain 
two ladders, one above the other, that have been 
placed there for that purpose. Notwithstanding 
one's double suit of underclothing and heavy 
wraps, he becomes so chilled and benumbed that 
he gradually loses his native activity. Hence the 
greatest caution is necessary to get back without 
broken limbs. As one sees these pinnacles and 
pyramids of purest azure ice bathed in the golden 
splendor of the setting sun, their shining steps 
look like a crystal stairway reaching from earth' 
to heaven. A orlacier reflectino- the sun's evening 
glories could perhaps not be better described 
than by saying, it looks like heaven hung out 

to air. 

"There are things whose strong reaUty 
Outshines our fairy-land ; in shape and hues 
More beautiful than our fantastic sky." 

We must now quit the glacier field, and go up 
on the Aeggischhorn. Reader, you must know 
that the way is long and rough and steep and 
hard. But what man has done, man can do. The 
object is worth the labor. What were a month's 
climbing, even though it be doubly difficult, when 
it is to be rewarded with the prospect from 
yonder imperial height.? We cross chasm after 
chasm, struggle from cliff to cliff, go from height 



SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 1 99 

to height, until we stand 14,000 feet above the 
world! Around us are a thousand snow-capped 
peaks rising up until they "melt into and mingle 
with the skies." 

"The sun seems pausing above the mountam's brow 
As if he left relunctantly a scene so lovely now." 

The rays of light like arrows pierce the ice- 
covered rocks, and set the Alpine world on fire. 
The bended heavens not far above us blush to 
behold the sight. Gods, isn't it glorious! Slow 
wanes the day from these sequestered valleys. 
As the tourists watch the sun gather up his spent 
shafts and put them back into his golden quiver, 
they involuntarily take off their hats and contem- 
plate the "afterglow" in silence. 

I might as well rest my pen, for I might write 
until my hand would become palsied from use, 
and you might read my writing until your eyes 
would grow dim with age, and yet I could convey 
to you no just conception of the Matterhorn 
whose brow really seems ambitious of the skies ! 
nor yet of the majestic Jungfrau whose head goes 
careering ten, twelve, fourteen, sixteen, thousand 
feet towards heaven. It is noonday when I first 
stand at the foot of the Jungfrau, the young wife. 
The clouds have come down and settled upon 
and around the mountain until at least half of it 
is obscured from view. But my eyes are some- 
thing like daggers piercing the clouds through, 
for 1 want to get a glimpse of the mountain as 



200 SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 

near to heaven as possible. All at once the 
clouds begin to rise. They lift themselves clear 
above the mountain's brow. Ah, me! I have to 
shut the door close on my fluttering, my rising* 
soul, lest it pass outward and' upward in astonish- 
ment. This is the Jungfrau, vailed in her daz- 
zling shroud of eternal snow, and I am sure 
Ruskin was correct when he said: "The seen 
walls of lost Eden could not have been more 
beautiful, or more awful round Heaven the gates 
of sacred death." Now, as if the mountain's brow 
was too sacred to be bared long at a time, the 
clouds, like a mighty sheet, begin to unfold and 
come down. The mountain is soon wrapt again 
in thick clouds, but she lifts her ambitious head 
aloft. Above and beyond the clouds her icy 
crown glistens in the light of the sun. 

The people here say this is the best place in 
Switzerland to see an avalanche. I am deter- 
mined to see one, if I have to remain here all 
summer. I see none the first day. As night ap- 
proaches, I cross a frightfully deep and yawning 
chasm, and come over on the Wengernalp, 3,000 
feet high, which leaves me still 13,000 feet below 
the top of the Jungfrau. Next morning, about half- 
past seven o'clock, I hear a strange noise, appa- 
rently in Heaven, as though the angels had revolt- 
ed. The noise is in the direction of the Jungfrau, 
whose head is still hidden in the clouds. The noise 
is heard, but the cause is unseen. It seems that 
a thousand cyclones and thunder-storms have com- 



SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 201 

bined into one. It comes "nearer, clearer, dead- 
lier" than, before. All eyes areturned in one di- 
rection, and now we see a world of white snow 
bursting forth like a thunder-bolt from the bosom 
of the clouds. It comes leaping down the mount- 
ain side from crag to crag, from peak to peak, 
across crack and glen and crevasse. Gathering 
momentum with each successive leap, it sweeps 
down the mountain side with such deafening noise 
and terrific force that nothing on earth could stay 
its onward progress. The earth trembles and the 
mountains reel as it leaps into the yawning chasm 
below. 

"These are the Alps, 
I'he palaces of Nature, whose vast walls 
Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps, 
And throned Eternity in icy halls 
Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls 
The avalanche — the thunderbolt of snow ! 
All that expands the spirit, yet appals, 
Gather around these summits, as to show 
How Earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave vain man below." 

After ascending Mount Blanc, I can but say, I 
have scaled thy heights, I have sniffed thy breeze, 
I have planted my feet upon thy glittering crown, 
but who, oh who, can comprehend thy glory! Oh 
thou monarch of mountains! I see thee in all thy 
majesty. Thy proportions are so vast and gigan- 
tic, thy form so regal and grand, that the eye in 
vain attempts to estimate them. Distance is 
annihilated by thy vastness, for thou art towering 




AMONG THE PEAKS, 



SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 203 

above us as if thou wouldst bear thy burden of 
virgin snow back to its native heaven. Yet above 
thy regal brow I see an eagle. For a moment he 
pauses with outstretched wings, as if to contem- 
plate thy glory, and then screaming with delight 
and whirling himself in the air, he continues his 
onward, upward flight, as if he would clutch his 
talons in the fiery sun itself. 

"Wave, eagle, thy pinion 
Supreme in the air ! " 

T3ut leave, ah leave, me alone on the mountain 
top amidst the frozen wilderness. I love to roam 
among the mountains. I love their pure air, 
their jagged heights, their snowy peaks, and their 
foaming cataracts tumbling down. Yea, 

" For the lifting up of mountains. 
In brightness and in dread ; 
For the peaks where snow and sunshine 
Alone have dared to tread ; 
For the dark of silent gorges, 
Whence mighty cedars nod : 
For the majesty of mountains, 
I thank thee, O my. God." 

This little country of Switzerland, locked in by 
the Alps, and surrounded by Germany, France, 
.Italy, and Austria, boasts the oldest republic in 
the world, its present form of government having 
existed half a thousand years. It is inhabited 
by 2,700,000 people, speaking three different lan- 
guages. One million and a half speak German, 



204 SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 

one million French, and the remainder Italian, 

Unlike the people of other European nations, 

four-fifths of these Switzers are land owners. 
They love to sing 

"Home, sweet home, 
Be it ever so humble, there is no place like home ! " 

And, verily, their homes are humble, especially 
in the wilder parts of the country. Their rude, 
structures are, for the most part, built of fir poles 
and rough stones, and are often perched on the 
steep mountain side, thousands of feet above the 
valley.. Sometimes nearly the whole house is 
hidden away in a blasted rock, only the end facing 
the valley being visible. These mountaineers 
liye high — I can not say luell. They have elevat- 
ed thoughts, that is if they have any thoughts at 
all; they look down upon kings and ordinary 
mortals, and only look up to eagles and to God. 
Despite the extraordinary precaution taken to 
have their houses shielded by the rock, many of 
them are annually swept away by avalanches. It 
is difficult to trace out the dim and winding paths 
by which these people reach their mountain huts. 
I said most Switzers are land-owners, and so 
they are, on a small scale. It is only a little here 
and less there; an acre in one place, a half acre 
in another, and so on. They have few or no 
horses, but nearly every family has two or three 
cows and a half dozen goats. They milk both 
goats and cows; both are as gentle as cats, and 



SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 205 

each one appears to know its name. Switzerland 
is a great country for honey, cheese, vegetables 
and fruit. Pears and grapes of the finest quality 
everywhere abound. Wine is plentiful and al- 
most as cheap as wa-ter, though I do not take 
advantage of the "reduced rates." 

There is something about the plain, simple, 
and unpretentious ways of these Alpine folk that 
challenges admiration. They are earnest, honest, 
pious, truthful, and industrious. Indeed, they can 
not be otherwise than industrious. Necessity is 
their stern master. He treads upon their heels, 
and cracks his whip over their heads. They have 
no machinery — they want none. They know 
nothing, and care less, about what progress the 
world is making. To them, "the world" means 
Switzerland, and that is about the same from age 
to age. "Contentment is the price of happiness ; " 
they have paid the price, and enjoy the prize. 
The iron-belted and thunder-riven mountains 
have lent strength of character and force of will to 
the men. They are hardy mountaineers They 
love their country next to their God. ■ 

"True as yon Alp to its own native flowers 
True as the torrent to its rocky bed, 
Or clouds and winds to their appointed track ; 
The Switzer cleaves to his accustom'd freedom, 
Holds fast the rights and laws his fathers left him, 
And spurns the tyrant's innovating sway." 

The crystal streams, silvery lakes, and smiling 



206 SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 

valleys, have reflected their beauty in many a 
maiden's face. True, these daughters of the 
forest wear no hig-h-heeled boots nor Paris bon- 
nets, but they are beautiful, nevertheless. I think 
Johnson will not soon forget a girl whom we met 
in a Swiss chalet where we stayed a few nights 
ago. And who can blame him.? She was eighteen 
years of age, of medium height, and had a fault- 
less figure. She had a Grecian face, smooth 
features, fair complexion, large brown eyes, and 
flowing auburn hair. A radiant smile wreathed 
her innocent face. She looked at Johnson. He 
looked at her. Neither one spoke. Neither one 
could speak so the other could understand. But 
what is the use of words 

"When each warm wish springs mutual from the heart, 
And thought meets thought ere from the Hps it part, 
When love is liberty, and nature law?" 

That night Johnson came to our room claiming 
that he was ill. When I inquired as to the nature 
of his trouble, he said he did not know what it 
was. He did not know whether he had the rash, 
whooping-cough, measles, small-pox, or cholera; 
but he had something, and had it bad. Where- 
upon I applied a flaxseed poultice to the back of 
his neck. Next morning found him convalescent 
though not entirely relieved. I see from history 
that such occurrences were common in the mid- 
dle ages. 

We have now been in Switzerland forty days. 



SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 207 

It has been forty days of hard work, and yet forty 
days of intense delight. We have walked nearly 
six hundred miles, and the last mile was stepped 
off with as much ease as the first mile. The last 
step had in it the same elasticity and firmness as 
the first. My youth was renewed like the eagle's. 
I constantly felt like mounting on the wings of 
rejoicing, and gliding over the country as a dis- 
embodied spirit. 

In some places, the angles we made in ascend- 
ing and descending were not less than sixty to 
seventy-five degrees! One time, when nightfall 
came, I was thoroughly tired — completely ex- 
hausted. Pain trembled in every limb. My knees 
denied their office. Hearty supper, warm foot- 
bath, bed, oblivion ! Strange is it may appear, 
the next day was spent, not in walking but in 
reading history. 

In our Alpine experiences, we walked from 
Switzerland into France and back ao-ain ; over 
Napoleon's famous Alpine pass from Switzerland 
into Italy and back. One time, while crossing 
the Alps without a guide, we lost our way. For 
several hours we wandered around — we knew not 
whither. All at once the clouds dropped down 
upon us, and with the clouds there came a blind- 
ing snow-storm. It seemed as if we would freeze. 
I knew we could not survive the cold till morning. 
I thought, "Is it possible that this white snow is 
to be my winding-sheet, and some rocky chasm 
my lonely grave.?" Just before dark, our hearts 



2o8 



SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 



were gladdened by the sight of six men not far 
away. We called to them. Across the fields of 
snow, the cold wind brought their cheering reply. 
The men, clad in fur and wrapped in black gowns, 
proved to be Augustine monks, who keep the St. 
Bernard Hospice. They took us with them to 
the Hospice which was only two miles away. On 




HOSPICE IN THE ALPS. 



reaching there, Johnson and I were almost frozen. 
We were soon seated by a glowing fire, and were 
comfortably shielded from the cutting wind and 
falling snow during that memorable night above 
the clouds. 

We spent some time with the monks ot the 
Hospice. This noble institution has been stand- 
ing nearly a thousand years. It is in the heart 



SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 209 

of the mountains — the highest winter habitation 
in the Alps. Snow falls here nine months in the 
year. The Hospice is kept by eighteen or twenty 
Augustine monks, whose sole business is to search 
for, assist and rescue, Alpine travelers who have 
lost their way in the snow. We saw here about 
a dozen of the famous St. Bernard dogs. They 
are, by all odds, the largest and finest dogs J have 
seen. They are thoroughly trained to assist the 
monks in their work. In the morning, when they 
are let out of the house where they have been 
locked durinof the niofht, the doofs seem wild with 
delight. They go bounding through the snow in 
every direction. With fore feet on some huge 
bowlder, and heads high in the air, they sniff the 
cold mountain breeze, and off they go again. 
For miles around, they search the mountains for 
travelers who, on account of cold and snow, have 
fallen by the way-side. In this way these philan- 
thropic monks and their noble dogs have saved 
many lives. 

It is impossible at the Hospice to dig graves in 
the rock and snow and ice, so they have a "dead 
house" where the bodies which are found in the 
snow are placed and kept. The atmosphere is so 
pure and intensely cold that decomposition takes 
place very slowly. There are about fifty bodies 
in the dead house now, the last two having been 
placed there about eighteen months ago. I went 
into this house, and I really believe that if I had 
ever known the two persons last placed there, I 



2IO SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 

could have recognized them then. Any traveler 
is kindly received by the monks and entertained 
for the night without any charge. Each visitor 
is expected, however, to "drop something in the 
box." Napoleon once stopped here, and hundreds 
of his soldiers, as they passed over the mountains 
with the cannon, partook of the hospitality ol the 
monks. Afterwards, the great Frenchman sent 
one of his generals here to be buried, that he 
might have the Alps as a monument. 

I visited the prison of Chillon. It is a gloomy 
old castle with five great towers, built upon a 
rock projecting some two hundred yards into 
Lake Geneva. Byron says of it : 

" Chillon ! thy prison is a holy place, 
And thy sad floor an altar ; for 'twas trod 
Until his very steps have left a trace, 
Worn, as if thy cold pavement were a sod, 
By Bonnivard ! May none those marks efface, 
For they appeal from tyranny to God. 

"There are seven pillars of Gothic mould 
In Chillon's dungeon deep and old. 
And in each pillar there is a ring, 
And in each ring there is a chain." 

The description is perfect. The whole thing is 
there as of old. 

I must stay my weary hand. I have already 
perhaps, written too much about Switzerland. 
But I have no apology to offer. I am in love 
with the country, that's all. Love Switzerland.? 

"Who could help it that has a heart to love, 
And in that heart courage to make its love known?" 




SWISS MOUNTAINS. 



212 SWITZERLAND AS SEEN ON FOOT. 

To get up regularly at 5 A. M., and see the 
first grey streaks of morning, to watch the grey 
turn to pearl, the pearl to copper, to amber, to 
gold, and then to see the whole heaven flecked 
with blushes and gattled with fire ; to watch 
the rising sun slowly climb the eastern hills^ 
and see the first gleam of light glistening on the 
snowy peaks around you; to start on your day's 
tramp while the air is fresh and bracing, and 
while all Nature is smiling as though earth held 
no tomb; to walk for hours and hours, climbing 
peaks and crossing glens; to sit down at noon on 
the flower-fringed bank of a limpid stream, and 
listen to the music of its rippling waters while 
you eat your cold lunch; and, after dinner is over, 
to lie in the sun for an hour or two and read the 
legends, poetry and history inseparably linked 
with the mountains, lakes and valleys that you 
have been admiring all the morning; to walk on 
until night, and then eat with an appetite that 
reminds you of your schoolboy days of old, when 
you ate all that was cooked and then called for 
more; to go out after supper and reflect on God's 
handiwork, with floods, snows, rocks, mountains, 
glens, forests round and heaven's bright stars 
above you, — to enjoy all this, and more, as I have 
done, were enough to put the tongue of praise in 
the mouth of the dumb, to wake well-springs of 
joy in the desert places of the heart, and send 
never-failing streams of rejoicing through the 
garden of life. 



CHAPTER XXI. 



BAPTISTS IN FRANCE. 



IN the early part of this century two English 
Baptists began to preach the Gospel in Swit- 
zerland and France. The burden of their 
preaching was free salvation through faith in 
Jesus Christ, and to their joy something of a re- 
ligious revival began to manifest itself. It seems 
however,, that these brethren did not give Believ- 
ers Baptism its proper place, and hence many of 
their disciples, looking upon it as a matter of no 
special importance, for the sake of peace kept it 
constantly in the background. The result was, 
that though many were converted and gathered 
into churches through the labors of these good 
Baptist brethren and their disciples, in 1830 only 
two little churches in the northern part of France 
were willing to be known as Baptists. 

About this time Prof. Rostan of Marseilles, 
left his home for the United States, where he be- 
came a Baptist. In 1832 he returned to France 
under the auspices of the Missionary Union, in- 
tending to spend his life in preaching the Gospel 
to his own people. He opened a hall in Paris, 
and a goodly number of attentive and serious 
hearers gathered about him, some of whom often 
accompanied him to his home to receive further 



214 BAPTISTS IN FRANCE. 

instruction. Mr. Rostan also sought interviews 
with prominent and influential men, to explain to 
them the object of his mission. He was generally 
well received, and was invited to give a series of 
lectures on Christianity before the "Society for 
Promoting Civilization." Being pious, cultivated 
and zealous, there was every reason to hope that 
he would accomplish a great work, but his lament- 
ed death in December 1833 put an end to his 
earthly labors. 

The Missionary Union at once sent out an 
appeal to young ministers, and Mr. Isaac Will- 
marth, then of the Newton Theological Seminary, 
who loved France, and especially Paris, because 
there, while a medical student he was lead to 
Christ, presented himself, and was at once ap- 
pointed to carry on the work. He reached Paris 
in June 1834. The following year a small church 
was orofanized and soon after two theological 
students were received into the church, and plac- 
ed themselves under Mr. Willmarth's instructions. 
Through a Colporteur whom he knew in Paris, 
Mr. Willmarth was brought into relation with the 
few Baptists of Northern P^rance, who were much 
gratified at receiving a visit from the American 
Missionary, and who were not a little surprised to 
hear from him of the large number of Christians 
in America, who not only held to Believers' Bap- 
tism, but, as a result of this, to restricted Com- 
munion also. 

In the latter part of 1835 the mission was rein- 



BAPTISTS IN FRANCE, 2 I 5. 

forced by two other American Missionaries, Rev. E. 
Willard, and Rev. D. N. Sheldon, both of Newton 
Theological Seminary. The chief object of this 
reinforcement was the establishment of a mission 
school, with special reference to the training of 
candidates for the ministry. Mr. Sheldon re- 
mained in Paris and in June 1836, Mr. Willmarth 
and Mr. Willard, wishing to be near the few Bap- 
tists of Northern France, removed to Douai, a 
town near the borders of Belgium, having a popu- 
lation of twenty thousand, and containing a small 
Baptist church. The following year Mr. Will- 
marth, on account of failing health, found it neces- 
sary to return to the United States, and two 
years later Mr. Sheldon returned also. Mr. Wil- 
lard, left alone in France, continued his labors, 
giving special attention to training of young men 
for the ministry, in which work he was very suc- 
cessful. 

In 1840 the mission numbered seven churches, 
five out-stations, six ordained ministers, five as- 
sistants and about two hundred members. 

The period between 1840 and 1848 was one of 
trial and persecution, the chief difficulties result- 
ing from the opposition of the government, which 
made it unlawful for more than twenty persons to 
meet together for any purpose, without the writ- 
ten permission of the magistrates. Brethren be-' 
gan holding private meetings in their own houses, 
but very soon a law was enacted subjecting any 
person who opened his house for public worship 



2l6 BAPTISTS IN FRANCE. . 

to a fine of from sixteen to three hundred francs. 
The execution of these laws was committed to 
the mayors of the communes, who were generally 
Roman Catholics, and thoroughly under the in- 
fluence of the priests, who, as ever, were not slow 
to avail themselves of this opportunity to perse- 
cute these Baptist brethren, with the hope of pre- 
venting further progress, and of destroying what 
had already been accomplished. In several places 
chapels were closed, one remaining unopened for 
thirteen years, and consequently brethren were 
forced to meet together secretly in private houses, 
or in the quiet woods. But it was not without 
danger that they thus assembled, for Preachers 
and Colporteurs were often arrested and fined, 
and but for the liberality of some good Baptists 
of New York, who willingly paid these fines in 
order that these faithful and courageous disciples 
might go forth from prison to preach the Gospel, 
their work would have been greatly hindered. 

In 1847 ^ famous trial took place. The pastors 
of Chauny and La fere (Aisne) together with a 
Colporteur, were sentenced each to pay a fine of 
three hundred francs, having been found guilty of 
the crime of preaching the Gospel. Many of their 
hearers were also subjected to fines. The case 
was carried to a higher court, and the sentence 
was somewhat modified. But feeling the injustice 
and illegality of the sentence, even in its modified 
form, it being a direct violation of the French 
Code, adopted in 1830, which contained a definite 



BAPTISTS IN FRANCE. 21 7 

provision for freedom of worship for all religious 
denominations, an appeal was made to the high- 
est court in the Empire. However, before the 
final trial, the Revolution of February 1848, over- 
threw the throne, and religious liberty was pro- 
claimed throuofhout the whole of France. 

One of the chief obstacles being removed, the 
work was prosecuted with lively hope and fresh 
zeal, and the following year, 1849, proved a sea- 
son of special blessing, forty-five baptisms having 
been reported. In 1850, the Baptist church in 
Paris was reorganized with four members, the 
first pastor being Mr. Dez. For thirteen years 
the church worshipped in a small inconvenient 
room, during which time the number o.f members 
increased from four to eighty-four. A better 
room was then obtained, where the brethren con- 
tinued to meet till 1873, when the present marble- 
front chapel was provided. Work was carried on 
successfully in several of the large towns of north- 
ern France, and in the villages and the country 
immediately adjoining them. The members of 
the churches are generally poor, and often much 
scattered, but they are most faithful and regular 
in their attendance on the Sunday services, some 
of them walking even ten miles. From all ac- 
counts French Raptists are noted for their piety 
and self-sacrificing efforts in spreading a knowl- 
edge of the Truth. 

Since 1857, when Mr. Willard returned to the 
United States, the work has been under the direc- 



2l8 BAPTISTS IN FRANCE. 

tion of a committee of French ministers, the 
means being largely furnished by the Missionary 
Union. The cause has made constant and sub- 
stantial progress, and gives good promise for the 
future. A Theoloijical School has been establish- 
ed in Paris. Besides the chapel in Paris, several 
others have been provided. The services are 
generally well attended, and the people seem, to 
manifest a growing tendency and desire to hear 
the Truth. In Chauny, where persecution was 
once so rife, the chapel has been enlarged, in 
order to accommodate the o-rowinof numbers who 
wish to hear the Gospel. Baptisms are of fre- 
quent occurrence. The little periodical called 
''L'Echodela Verite'' has met with unexpected 
favor and success, the number of its subscribers 
being nearly twice that of the Baptists themselves. 
A small but valuable Baptist literature has been 
provided. If we include those not connected 
with the Missionary Union, the Baptist force of 
France numbers at present about twenty pastors 
and evangelists, about twenty organized churches, 
some forty or fifty sub-stations, and about one 
thousand members. During these sixty years of 
effort and suftering much precious fruit has been 
gathered for the heavenly garner, and a good 
foundation has been laid. Religiously, France 
and Italy are very much alike, and the difficulties 
of the one, are, in the main, the difficulties of the 
other. In each case Romanism, with its attend- 
ant and inevitable evils, is the chief obstacle. But 



BAPTISTS IN FRANCE. 219 

the darkness of Romanism is sure to recede be- 
fore the light of God's Word, and we may confi- 
dently hope that the land so often crimsoned by 
the blood of martyrs, the land of the Huguenots 
will yet throw off the shackles of the " Man of Sin " 
and bow to the sway of Immanuel, 



CHAPTER XXII. 

FROM VIENNA DOWN THE DANUBE TO 
CONSTANTINOPLE. 



A Black Night on the Black Sea — A Doleful Dirge — Two Thousand Miles — Vienna 
— Its Architecture — Its Palace — Its Art Galleries and Museums — Through 
Hungary, Servia, Slavonia, and Bulgaria — Cities and Scenery along the 
Danube — Products of the Countries — Entering the Bosphorus amid a War of 
the Elements — -Between Two Continents — Constantinople — Difficulty with a 
Turkish Official — A Babel of Tongues— The Sultan at Prayer — Twenty Thou 
sand Soldiers on Guard — Multiplicity of Wives — Man-Slayer. 



1AM now far out on the Black Sea. Night has 
settled down on the face of the deep, and 
darkness broods over the wide, wide world. 
This is, however, far from being- a "still and pulse- 
less world " at present. We are not having a storm, 
but the wind is blowing a perfect gale. I have 
just been pacing the deck and watching the heav- 
ing bosom of the ocean. I love the ocean ; I love 
her vastness ; I love her doleful music; I love her 
foam-crested waves and white-capped billows. 
But I had to leave the deck to-night; it is too 
cold and rough and dark to remain out any longer. 
Hence I came to the saloon ; and, as there are a 
few thoughts floating through my mind, I take up 
my pen. I am tired, and would wait until morn- 
ing ; but memory is a treacherous creature, and the 
only way I can secure these thoughts is to fasten 
them in words, and chain them in writing. The 



222 FROM VIENNA TO CONSTANTINOPLE. 

thoughts I propose to manacle pertain to places 
I have visited and objects I have seen since leav- 
ing Geneva, Switzerland. During this time, I have 
traveled more than two thousand miles, sometimes 
on foot, sometimes on trains, and sometimes on 
the Danube river. 

Vienna, the proud capital of haughty Austria, 
has more than a million inhabitants, is splendidly 
situated, and is one of the prettiest cities in 
Europe. The city abounds in monuments and 
statues, in large parks, lovely flower gardens, and 
playing fountains. But Vienna's crowning glory 
is her superb architecture. The Emperor's Man- 
sion, the Palace of Justice, and the Houses of 
Parliament, are especially fine. They are immense 
structures, and are elaborately sculptured not only 
from the ground to the roof, but the roof itself is 
covered with sculptured work. For instance, there 
are standing on the House of Parliament alone, 
eighty life-size marble statues. In addition to 
these, there are, on the same roof eight large gild- 
ed chariots, each drawn by four flying horses, and 
driven by a winged goddess. As one approaches 
these buildings, they present a most striking 
appearance. 

I went through the Palace, and saw the Emperor 
and the crown jewels of Austria; through the 
royal riding-school, where the imperial family are 
daily instructed in the art of horsemanship; 
through the art galleries and Museum, which con- 



FROM VIENNA TO CONSTANTINOPLE. 223 

tain too many fine pictures and objects of inter- 
est to be mentioned here. 

Since leaving Vienna, I have traveled through 
Hungary, Servia, Slavonia, and Bulgaria, stopping 
at Buda-Pesth, Belgrade, Rustchuk, and Varna. 
For two days and nights I wss on the majestic 
Danube. Most of the time the river was broad, 
and the country level and uninteresting. But this 
was by no means uniform; occasionally the river 
would burst through a rocky mountain ridge, and 
I remember I opened my umbrella and stood on 
deck in the cold wind and rain for three hours, 
rather than go down to the saloon, where I could 
only half see the rugged cliffs and peaks over- 
hanging the river. Do you say, " That was ex- 
pensive pleasure?" Well, be- it so. But I love 
nature. Besides, it has been said, and truly, I be- 
lieve, that we enjoy anything in the prDportion to 
what it costs us. I am going to make a strong 
statement, and yet one that is as true as strong. 
I know that it will sound like blasphemy to some, 
but I believe in the old proverb, "Honor to whom 
honor is due;" hence I now declare that the 
scenery along some parts of the Danube is finer 
than anything on the Rhine. 

The principal productions of Servia, Slavonia, 
Roumelia, and Bulgaria, seem to me to be ignor- 
ance, turnips, soldiers, poodle dogs, and an annual 
crop of semi-royal, throne-seeking dudes. I would 
rather own a thousand acres of black land in 
Texas, or be a well-to-do farmer in Blue Grass, 



224 



FROM VIENNA TO CONSTANTINOPLE. 



Kentucky, than to have ten such thrones as all 
these petty kingdoms combined could offer. I 




settled the Bulgarian trouble, and left the coun- 
try. (I close for the night). . 



FROM VIENNA TO CONSTANTINOPLE. 225 

I fell asleep last night little dreaming what the 
morning held in store for me. About 7 o'clock, 
A. M., though I was up long before that time, we 
entered the Bosphorus. We were sailing directly 
towards the rising sun. Along the eastern hori- 
zon great banks of purple clouds lay piled one 
upon another like Pelion upon Ossa, The clouds 
rise higher and higher, as now and then the sun 
climbs up to peep over, like an imprisoned giant 
from behind the frowning battlements. 

We were apparently between the two arms of a 
great horseshoe, and were gliding slowly on into 
its curve, with the land on all sides sloping up 
gently from the water's edge. We were between 
two continents — Europe on the right, and Asia 
on the left. Our narrow passage was lined on 
either side with great torpedo boats, and iron- 
clad men-of-war, trembling for service. These, in 
turn, were flanked by two lines of impregnable 
forts, planted with grim and frowning cannon. As 
we pass the batteries and enter the bay, we be- 
hold the great city of Constantinople, crowning 
the heights that sweep around the curve of the 
horseshoe. We see its palaces, mosques, towers, 
and spires, all outlined against a dark background 
of cloud. Just at this moment, the sun rifts the 
purple clouds, and pours a flood of golden glory 
over the whole scene. 

By this time the " Urano " casts anchor, and we 
are soon surrounded by two or three hundred 
row-boats that have come to take the passengers 



226 



FROM VIENNA TO CONSTANTINOPLE. 



ashore. Just as I am about to step on shore an 
armed soldier cries out: "Halt, stand ! " I do not 




know what the reader would have done, but I — 
well, I obey the gruff voice. I am informed that 
no man is allowed to set foot on Ottoman soil 



FROM VIENNA TO CONSTANTINOPLE. 227 

without legal papers from his native country. 
Whereupon, I draw from my pocket a passport. 
The officer admires the American eagle, but has 
some difficulty in reading the document. When 
he comes to '^ E pluribus Ununi'''' he stalls ; and, 
turning to me, he asks : " What does this mean ? " 
I reply: "That simply indicates my high rank and 
official position at home. It says I am one among 
many'' The Turk now uncovers his head, shows 
his teeth, and bows. 

I can say to-day, more truly than ever before, 
" I am a stranger in a strange land." I have just 
been out in the city. The streets are crowded. 
I saw Turks, Greeks, Jews, Americans, Russians, 
Bulgarians, and Slavonians, all speaking strange 
languages, all wearing different, strange, and grot- 
esque costumes, all looking and staring at me as 
thouofh I was some wild animal in Barnum's show. 
Nothing can be more strangely hideous than a 
tall, stoop-shouldered, long-haired, black-eyed, cop- 
per-colored Ottoman in his native dress, if dress 
it may be called. The women go with their faces 
veiled, their eyes being "too pure" to look upon 
" Christian dogs," as they call us. 

It is Friday, the Mohammedan Sabbath, so I 
went at noon to-day to the " Imperial Mosque " to 
see the Sultan as he entered to say his prayers. 
And I saw the Sultan, the man who is the hus- 
band of 500 wives, the political ruler of the Turk- 
ish Empire, and the spiritual head of the Moham- 
medan world. The ceremonies attending the Sul- 














iiiLiJsit. 



4." -^» St* \ *" 



'^- 



FROM VIENNA TO CONSTANTINOPLE. 229 

tan's parade to the Mosque were conducted 
with an Oriental splendor that was simply daz- 
zling to human sight. Twenty thousand armed 
soldiers — horse and foot — lined the way and sur- 
rounded the Mosque. The soldiers all wore red 
caps, and they looked like a veritable sea of blood, 
on which were Boating thousands of gleaming 
bayonets and glistening sabres. The Sultan's 
approach was announced by blowing bugles, play- 
ing bands, beating drums, and booming cannons. 
As the Sultan — I had almost said as the Satan — 
passed, the heathen people shouted: "Kalif, Hum- 
kiar," "Zil-Ulla," " Alem Penah," which being in- 
terpreted means, "The successor of the Prophet," 
"Vicar of God, shadow of God," "Refuge of the 
world." When I saw and heard these things, I 
said to myself: "I would rather be an ass — crazy, 
crippled, blind, and dumb — doomed to serve in a 
tread-mill for a thousand years, than to be a two- 
legged mass of putrefaction, and yet adored as a 
god by an ignorant and corrupt heathen people. 



CHAPTER XXIII. 

FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ATHENS. 



A Stormy Day on Marmora — Sunrise on R-'ount Olympus — Brusa, the Ancient 
Capital of Turkey — Ancient Troy — Homeric Heroes — Agamemnon's Fleet — 
The Wooden Horse — Paul's Vision at Troas — Athens — A Lesson in Greek — 
The Acropolis — The Parthenon — Modern Athens — Temple of Jupiter — The 
Prison of Socrates — The Platform of Demosthenes — Mars Hill and Paul's Ser- 
mon — Influence of the Ancients. 



THE clouds are low thick and heavy, and the 
rain is falling- fast; but the time of our de- 
parture has arrived, we must start. In one 
hour after we set foot on deck, our gallant ship is 
gracefully gliding over the smooth waters of the 
Sea of Marmora. Constantinople, the city of 
Constantine the Great, soon fades from our view, 
and we are again "rocked in the cradle of the 
deep." 

The night brings welcome rest. I am up with 
the morning. About sunrise we pass Mount 
Olympus, in Asia Minor, at the foot of which is 
the city of Brusa, the ancient capital of Turkey. 
We now enter the Hellespont, and pass close to 
ancient Troy, the city of Priam. Here, too, are 
the tombs of Ajax, Hector and Achilles. On our 
left, is the bay where Agamemnon's fleet once lay 
at anchor. There, also, is the island of Tenedos^ 
where the treacherous Greeks concealed them- 
selves when they pretended to abandon the siege 



232 FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ATHENS. 

of Troy. The ghost of Virgil's wooden horse 
now rises up before me, and I quote to a Greek 
naval officer, standing by my side, this sentence 
from the Latin poet: " Timemus Danaos et dona 
ferentes." 

It was here that a vision appeared unto Paul 
by night. "There stood a man of Macedonia and 
prayed him, saying, " Come over into Macedonia 
and help us." Therefore loosing from Troas 
(Troy), we came with a straight course to Samo- 
thracia, and next day to Neapolis, and from there 
to Philippi." Then followed the imprisonment, 
earthquake, etc. (Acts XVI). We are sailing 
close along the coast of Macedonia, but Philippi, 
Is not visible. We have a delightful day on the 
Archipelago, and about eight o'clock on the second 
morning we land at Piraeus. Here we take train, 
and twenty minutes later we are in Athens. Here 
the newsboys crowd around with Greek papers to 
sell. The bootblacks speak Greek, hotel porters 
speak Greek, the streets are named in Greek — 
everything Is Greek. I am in a new world, and 
the trouble is that the Greek of to-day is so very 
different from that used by the classic writers, 
that my knowledge of the language helps me 
but little. 

Breakfast being over, I start out to "do the 
city.'' Where do I go .^^ I care little for the pres- 
ent museums and art galleries, and still less for 
King George, his Palace and the Royal Park. I 



FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ATHENS. 



233 



came here not to see modern Athens, but that 

city 

" On the Aegean shore, 
Built nobly ; pure the air and light the soil, 
Athens, the eye of Greece, the mother of arts 
And eloquence." 




Hence I go at once to the famous Acropolis. 
The Acropolis is a hill, or a great rock three hun- 
dred feet high, jutting out of the valley in which 



234 



FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ATHENS. 



Athens is situated. This rock is oblong in shape, 
measuring i,ioo feet north and south, and about 
500 feet east and west. Its sides are always steep. 




and on the north perpendicular. This Athenian 
rock, the Acropolis, was once crowned by five 
marble temples, the most splendid of which was 
the Parthenon. The Parthenon has justly been 



236 FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ATHENS. 

called "the finest edifice on the finest site in the 
world, hallowed by the noblest recollections that 
can stimulate the human heart." This wonderful 
temple was 100 by 250 feet, built of the purest 
Pentelic marble, and surrounded by eighty huge 
columns. The Parthenon, like most of the other 
Grecian temples, is now partly in ruins. It has 
been standing twenty-five hundred years, and yet, 
despite the combined onslaught and united rav- 
ages of the Persian, the Turk, time, war, earth- 
quake, flood and fire, these stately walls and lofty 
columns still stand to attest the energy, taste, 
skill and culture of the ancient Greeks. They 
were 

" First in the race that led to glory's goal, 
The Parthenon, the Parthenon ! 
Look on its broken Arch, its ruined wall, 
Its chambers desolate and portals foul. 
Yes ; this was once ambition's airy hall j 
The dome of thought, the palace of the soul." 

Standing on the Acropolis and looking toward 
the north, I see modern Athens, with its seventy- 
five thousand inhabitants. To the east, are the 
remains of the "Temple of Jupiter." This im- 
mense structure was once surrounded by one 
hundred and fifty Corinthian columns, seven feet 
in diameter and sixty feet high. Sixteen of these 
columns, and one triumphal arch, still stand in a 
perfect state of preservation. They are wonder- 
ful to behold. 

Looking in the same direction, but beyond 



FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ATHENS. 237 

the cemple of Jupiter, I see the Stadium, which 
consists of a natural amphitheatre, formed by 
three hills, united and modified artificially. This 
is where the gymnastic cohtests and Olympic 
games took place. 

Southwest of the Acropolis, is the rock-hewn 
prison of Socrates where the grand old philoso- 
pher drank the fatal hemlock. Directly west, is 
the platform with a stone pulpit from which the 
destinies of Athens were swayed by the matchless 
eloquence of Demosthenes. Between this pulpit 
and the Acropolis is the Areopagus, or Mar's Hill. 
When Paul was in Athens, "they took him and 
brought him to the Areopagus, saying, 'May we 
know what this new doctrine, whereof thou speak- 
est, is ? ' Then Paul stood in the midst of Mar's 
Hill and said, 'Ye men of Athens, I perceive that 
in all things ye are too superstitious! For, as I 
passed by and beheld your devotions, I found 
an altar with this inscription : 'To the Unknown 
God.' Whom, therefore, ye ignorantly worship. 
Him declare I unto you.'" (Acts xvii : 15-32.) I 
stood "in the midst of Mar's Hill," and read Paul's 
speech in Greek to some " men of Athens," who, 
in all probability, had never heard it before. 

I have now been in this classic land many days, 
during which I have lost no time. I have seen 
much of the people. On Tuesday and Saturday 
afternoons of each week, the royal band discourses 
music from a grand stand occupying the centre of 
one of the public squares. During these concert 



238 FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ATHENS. 

hours, from five to ten thousand Greeks assemble 
in this open square. Here they meet and mix and 
comming-le and commune in the freest and easiest 
manner imaginable. They sit, stand, promenade, 
or dance, as they like, but all of them are all the 
time lauehine and talkinor. \ never saw a better- 
natured crowd. I miss no opportunity like this 
to study Greek life and character. One cannot 
be thrown among this crowd for an hour without 
observing among the women the same traits of 
female beauty that we have been studying all our 
lives in models of art and sculpture. The men, I 
take it, have deeenerated more than the women. 
A modern Diogenes mig-ht walk the streets of 
Athens for a week, withotit finding a ?nan like 
those of olden times. I am glad to add, however, 
that the present king is doing much to elevate his 
subjects. 

I have wandered through and around these ma- 
jestic ruins all day, and then gone back at night 
and viewed them by the pale moonlight. As I 
sit in the quiet stillness of this midnight hour and 
think of the past. 

" Memory approaches, 

Holding up her magic glass. 
Pointing to familiar pictures, 

Which across the surface pass." 

In the stately procession which sweeps across the 
stage of my imagination, I see Socr.ites, Zeno, 
Plato, and Zenophon ; I see Aristotle, Solon, Per- 



FROM CONSTANTINOPLE TO ATHENS. 239 

icles, Sophocles, and Demosthenes. These are 
the men that gave Greece her g-lory ; these are the 
men who, with the fulcrum of thought planted 
their feet upon the Acropolis and moved the 
world. Borrowing- the thought from Canon Far- 
rar, though not using his exact language. I may 
say, "Under Greek influence human freedom put 
forth its most splendid power; human intellect 
displayed its utmost sublimity and grace ; art 
reached its most consummate perfection ; poetry 
uttered alike its sweetest and sublimest strains 
and philosophy attuned to the most perfect music 
of human expression, its loftiest and deepest 
thought. Had it been possible for the world, by 
its own wisdom, to know God ; had it been in the 
power of man to turn into bread the stones of the 
wilderness; had perfect happiness lain within the 
grasp of sense, or been among the rewards of cul- 
ture ; had it been granted to man's unaided power 
to win salvation by the gifts and graces of his 
own nature, and make for himself a new Paradise 
in lieu of that lost Eden before whose eates still 
wars the fiery sword of the Cherubim, — then such 
ends' would have been achieved by these old 
Athenians. Nor did their influence die with their 
bo'dies ; it is alive to-day, and it will be transmit- 
ted from generation to generation, until the stars 
grow dim and moons shall wax and wane no 
more." 



CHAPTER XXIV. 

ASIA MINOR AND THE ISLAND OF PATMOS. 



Smyrna — Its Commerce — Its Population — Famed Women — Home of the Apostle 
John — One of the Seven Asiatic Churches — Martyrdom and Tomb of Poly- 
carp — Emblematic Olive Tree — Out into the Interior of Asia Minor — Struck 
by Lightning; — Visit to Ephesus — Birthplace of Mythology — Temple of Diana 
— Relics of the Past — Homer's Birthplace — A Baptist Preacher and a Pro- 
tracted Meeting — John the Baptist and the Virgin Mary — Timothy's Grave — 
Cave of the Seven Sleepers — Return to Smyrna — Sail to Patmos — Patmos, the 
Exiled Home of the Apostle John — The Island of Rhodes and the Colossus — 
Death and Disease on the Ship — Quarantined — A "Watery Grave — Hope An- 
chored within the Vail. 



SMYRNA is the most important city in Asia 
Minor, and one of the principal commercial' 
points of the Ottoman Empire. I am told that 
the annual exports and imports amount to more 
than $15,000,000. The population of the city is 
estimated at 200,000, representing seven different 
nationalities and speaking, therefore, seven separ- 
ate cind distinct languages. From appearances, 
one would judge that the city was built soon after 
the flood, and that it had seldom been repaired. 
The houses are old and dilapidated, the streets 
are narrow, crooked and filthy. The people gen- 
erally are ignorant, superstitious and fanatical, 
and wear various strange and grotesque costumes. 
I have often heard that Smyrna was noted for 
her pretty women, but I protest. I have seen 
nothing in this city that even approximates female 



ASIA MINOR AND THE ISLAND OF PATMOS, 24 1 

beauty; and, if I see a pretty woman at all, her 
face is so completely covered and wrapped up in 
muslins and shawls that I can hardly tell whether 
she is a Greek or an Ethiopian. 

One of the seven Asiatic churches was located 
in this place. An old, old rock church still stands, 
and is pointed out as the one in which the Apos- 
tles used to preach. Near by the church is the 
tomb of Polycarp, who was a pupil of the Apostle 
John, and who was martyred A. D. i6o, because 
he preached "the Gospel of Christ." I have often 
read the touching account of Polycarp's martyr- 
dom. When asked to recant, he replied : " For 
eighty and six years have I served my God, and 
He has never forsaken me; and I can not now 
forsake Him." The green boughs of a lone olive 
tree wave above his tomb, and I say to my friend : 
"Verily that tree is emblematic; its leaves are 
green, so is the memory of Polycarp still fresh in 
the mind of the Christian world. Above his tomb 
waves the olive branch of peace ; and his sainted 
spirit, I believe, has gone on and up, and has long 
been in the full enjoyment of 'that peace which 
the world knows not 'of.' " 

From Smyrna I go out into the interior of the 
country, which generally is neglected and barren. 
I believe, however, that if the Turkish government 
was struck by lightning, and some other power 
could come in, that would encourage and protect 
honest labor, these fertile valleys would again 
yield abundant harvests, and that peace and plenty 



242 ASIA MINOR AND THE ISLAND OF PATMOS. 

would reign where discord and pinching poverty 
now hold sway. In my opinion, the Turkish gov- 
ernment is a reproach to the civilization of the 
nineteenth century ; and I think the Lord lets it 
stand simply to show the powers of earth how 
deep down into degradation and despair, into vice 
and vagrancy, a nation can sink, when it wanders 
away from and forgets God. "Sin is a reproach 
to any people." 

On the way to Ephesus we meet several cara- 
vans, or trains of camels. These "ships of the 
desert" are all heavily laden, some with fruit, 
dried figs, dates, pomegranates, others with hand- 
made silks, Turkish rugs, Russian- carpets, and 
other fancy goods. These caravans go back and' 
forth between Smyrna and the far interior of the 
country. Camels are very obedient, and it is 
really amusing to see the humble creatures kneel 
down to receive their burdens. 

Ephesus is chiefly interesting because of its his- 
torical associations. Next to Athens, it was once 
the most magnificent city in the world. Ephesus 
is as old as the hills. It is the birthplace of 
mythology. Apollo and Diana were born here. 
Bacchus and Hercules once struggled with the 
Amazon in the streets of Ephesus. These hills 
were once covered with twenty-five marble tem- 
ples dedicated to heathen gods, that of Diana 
being one of the seven wonders of the ancient 
world. Ephesus is one ot the nine cities which 
claim to have given birth to Homer. 



ASIA MINOR AND THE ISLAND OF PATMOS. 243 

Some of the greatest names in history are 
connected with Ephesus. Alexander the Great 
visited here; so did Hannibal and Antiochus 
Scipio, Scylla, Brutus, Cassius, Pompey, Cicero, 
and Augustus. Antony was once judge of the 
court of Ephesus. It was from here that Antony 




TURKISH LADY. 



and Cleopatra sailed for Samos in gilded galleys 
with perfumed silken sails and silver oars, drawn 
by beautiful girls whose gleaming paddles kept 
time to soft strains of music. 

Some time ago, a very strange and serious 



244 ASIA MINOR AND THE ISLAND QF PATMOS. 

difficulty occurred in this city of Ephesus. The 
trouble arose in this fashion: A stranger came 
into the city. The newcomer was possessed of a 
strong character and a superior education. He 
was by birth a Jew, by nature a gentleman, by 
education a scholar, by faith a Christian, and by 
profession a Baptist preacher. According to his 
custom, this strange Baptist preacher entered 
into the synagogue and reasoned with the Jews. 
From what I can find out, this man made a favor- 
able impression in Ephesus, for the Jews "desired 
him to tarry longer with them," but "he consented 
not." He promised, however, to "return to them, 
if it be God's will." The Lord kindly permitted 
this man to return to Ephesus; and when he got 
there he found "certain disciples." He asked 
them if they had received the Holy Ghost. They 
replied: "We have not so much as heard whether 
there be any Holy Spirit." Strange to say, I 
have heard professing Christians in America say 
the self-same thing. These Ephesians, be it said 
to their credit, acted wisely and were re-baptised. 
The preacher then went into the church and 
spoke boldly for the space of three months. 
Now there arose a disturbance in the church, or 
synagogue, as it was called, so that it became 
necessary for the preacher to change the place of 
meeting to the school-house, or college chapel. 
Here, in this school-room, he held one of the 
most wonderful protracted meetings I have ever 
heard of; it lasted two years and three months, 



ASIA MINOR AND THE ISLAND OF PATMOS. 245 

"so mightily grew the word of God and prevailed." 
The town was stirred to its very depths. Among 
the converts were many infidels, diviners sooth- 
sayers, fortune-tellers, etc. These people who 
"used curious arts brouo-ht their books too-ether 
and burned them before all their fellow-townsmen; 
and they counted the price of them, and found it 
fifty thousand pieces of silver," equal in American 
money to $15,000. This was the grandest day in 
the long history of Ephesus. 

At this juncture, the silversmiths, who made 
shrines for the Temple of Diana, and the other 
heathen temples of Ephesus, came together and 
decided that somethino- had to be done to break 
up the protracted meeting. They said that if 
Christ continued to be preached, and Christianity 
to spread, men would cease to bow down to 
shrines, to stocks and stones, and then their craft 
would be gone and the temple of "Diana despis- 
ed." Then the excitement became intense, "The 
whole city was filled with confusion." Some, 
therefore, cried one thing, and some' another. 
For two hours all with one voice shouted: "Great 
is Diana of the Ephesians." 

For the benefit of those who have so much 
business to attend to, or who have so many news- 
papers to , read, that they habitually neglect the 
the Bible, I will add in conclusion that the Bap- 
tist preacher who conducted this revival was Paul, 
the Apostle (Acts xviii and xix). According 
to tradition, the same Apostle was imprisoned 



246 ASIA MINOR AND THE ISLAND OF PATMOS. 

here, and the cell in which he is said to have been 
confined is still pointed out. 

The church at Ephesus is the first one men- 
tioned in Revelation (ii : 1-8). John is believed 
to have retired to Ephesus after his release from 
banishment to Patmos, and thither the Virgin 
Mary came to reside with the beloved disciple. 
Here, says tradition, both of them died and were 
buried. Their tombs are still shown to the trav- 
eler; so, also, is the tomb of Timothy. Near by 
these graves is the celebrated Cave of the Seven 
Sleepers. 

This once fair and populous city is now noth- 
ing more than a lonely, desolate, bleak, and bar- 
ren heap of ruins. By the remaining aqueducts, 
foundation stones, archways, broken pillars, and 
marble columns, the tourist can recognize the 
location of some of the temples, theatres and 
public buildings. These have recently been ex- 
cavated by Captain Wood, of England. 

Returning to Smyrna, I immediately come 
aboard the good ship "Mars." She at once 
lifts her anchors, and spreads her sails to the 
breezes ; and soon Smyrna, like Ephesus, Con- 
stantinople, and Athens, is among the places that 
'T have left behind." The first landing is Chios 
(Acts XX : 15;) then passing by Samos we come 
next morning, about eight o'clock, to the island 
of Patmos, known throughout Christendom as the 
exiled home of the Beloved Disciple, The island 
is a solid and irre^'ular mass of rock, bleak and 




J,,,/, 



■ iLf^///'/lllPli.iilJiiilii;IB^^^^^^^^^ 



ASIA MINOR AND TME ISLAND OF PATMOS. 248 

barren. It is ten miles long, and five miles in 
breadth. The cave, or grotto, in which John is 
said to have written the Apocalypse is used as a 
chapel. In this chapel, numerous lights are kept 
burning, and on its walls are rudely depicted va- 
rious scenes taken from the Apocalypse. Patmos 
is now inhabited by 4,000 Greeks, who have two 
sources of income. One is fishing, while their, 
second main occupation is stealing. 

On the island of Rhodes (Rev. xxi ; i), we 
visit the place where once stood the celebrated 
"Colossus of Rhodes," known as one of the won- 
ders of the ancient world. The Colossus was a 
bronze statue 105 feet high. It stood across the 
narrow harbor, so that ships entering the port 
would pass between its legs. The statue is said 
to have cost a half million dollars. 

We are now anchored at Larnaca, the principal 
town on the island of Cyprus. Cyprus was the 
home of Barnabas, and the scene of some of 
Paul's missionary work. We have anticipated 
much pleasure in traveling over this historic is- 
land. But alas, alas ! thoughts of pleasure have 
fled, and dread suspicions are now entertained. 
Some fearfully contagious disease has broken out 
on our vessel. The doctor says it is small-pox^ 
but some of us fear it is cholera. Small-pox is 
prevalent in Constantinople, and people have 
been dying from it in Smyrna, whence we came, 
at the rate of one hundred and fifty per day. 
Malta, which is only some few hours away, is 



ASIA MINOR AND THE ISLAND OF PATMOS. 249 

suffering most fearfully from cholera. We have 
been here now twenty-four hours. We are quar- 
rantined, and are not allowed to land or even to 
discharge the sick. The passengers are panic- 
stricken. The most intense excitement prevails. 
The flags of disease and death are floating at our 
mast-head. It does not make one feel at all 
pleasant to see these flags, especially when one 
remembers that he is many thousand miles from 
home and loved ones. I should not like to be 
buried in the sea, nor yet in a foreign land among 
strangers. When I have finished life's work, and 
the watchers shall fold my pale hands upon my 
breast and softly whisper, "He is dead," I want to 
be carried back to my own native land, and there 
buried in some quiet church-yard, where those 
whom I have known and loved in life can occas- 
ionally come and plant evergreens and forget-me- 
nots over my grave. The only consolation I 
have at present is that God, who doeth all things 
well, knoweth best. I therefore cheerfully com- 
mit my body, soul and spirit, to the God and 
Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, now and forever. 



CHAPTER XXV. 

FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 



Landing at Beyrout — Escape from Death — Thankful Hearts — Seed Planted — 
Desire Springs up — Bud of Hope: — Golden Fruit — " By God's Help" — Prepa- 
rations — New Traveling Companions — Employing a Dragoman — A Many- 
Sided Man Required to Make a Successful Traveler — "Equestrian Pilgrims" 
A Great Caravan- — Ships of the Desert — Preparations for War — A Dangerous 
Mishap — National Hymn — Journey Begun — Mulberry Trees — Fig-Leaf 
Dresses — An Inspiring Conversation — The Language of Balaam — City of 
Tents - General Rejoicing — Tidings of Sadness — Welcome News — First Night 
in Tents — Sabbath Day's Rest — Johnson and his Grandmother — A Wedding 
Procession — Johnson Delighted — Brides Bought and Sold — Increase in Price — 
Inferiority of Woman — Multiplicity of Wives — Folding of Tents — Camel 
Pasture — Leave Damascus Road — Noah's Tomb, Eighty-Five Feet Long — 
Perilous 7^ scent — Brave Woman — " If I Die, Carry Me on to the Top '' — The 
Cedars at Last — Emotions Stirred — " The Righteous Grow like the Cedars of 
Lebanon " — Amnon. 



VE have reached Beyrout at last. It is a 
gracious relief to escape from that disease- 
stricken ship. I feel like kneeling down 
and kissing the earth. I think every passenger 
lifts his heart in grateful praise to God for deliv- 
erance. I can but say : " Bless the Lord, O my 
soul ; and all that is within me bless His holy 
name." I praise Him because He has brought me 
through many countries and over many seas ; I 
praise Him for deliverance from danger and 
death ; I praise Him because in landing I am per- 
mitted to step on sacred soil ; I praise Him for 
the prospect I now have of traveling through this 
Holy Land. 1 can not tell — Ldo not know — when 



FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 25 1 

the seed was planted, but some ten years ago the 
plant of desire sprang up in my heart. I did not 
pluck it up. Gradually its rootlets intertwined 
themselves with the fibres of my very being, and 
finally they took deep root in my soul. Five 
years later the buds of hope appeared. I was 
happy. The plant was nurtured with patience 
and with care. The buds grew into flowers, and 
now the fruit appears. First, the desire, then the 
hope, and now the realization. Yes, for years I 
have thought of traveling through Palestine. 
This trip became my thought by day and my 
dream by night. I have often made nocturnal 
visits to Bethlehem and Calvary. While asleep I 
have wandered through the streets of Jerusalem; 
in my dreams I have seen Nazareth nestling on 
the hillside, and Damascus reposing in the valley. 
That desire grew stronger and stronger. It be- 
came the ruling passion of my life, and I said: 
"By God's help I will go." I set my face like a 
flint towards the Holy Land, and hither I have 
come. I feel profoundly thankful that that which 
was my youth's fondest hope is now my man- 
hood's first glory to realize. 

I have already begun the journey "through 
Palestine in the saddle," and if the reader will 
exercise some of that "patience" which " beareth 
all things," I will tell him who my companions are, 
and what the mode of traveling is in this country. 
Afterwards I may say something concerning the 
appearance and condition of the country ; also 



252 FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 

something about the customs and habits of the 
people. 

I have become quite a pedestrian, and I had 
hoped to go through Palestine and Syria, as I, 
went through several European countries — on 
foot. But since arriving here I find that a "tramp 
trip" is quite impracticable, if not altogether im- 
possible. I never undertake impossibilities, hence 
I give up my scheme of walking. 

While Johnson and I were traveling in Bulga- 
ria, we met Mr. Wm. Y. Hamlin and two ladies 
from Detroit, Michigan. The two ladies were 
sisters. One of them was unmarried; the other 
was Mr. Hamlin's deceased wife's mother. We 
met them again in Constantinople and some time 
afterward in Smyrna. We spent several days to- 
pfether around the islands and on the waters of 
the Mediterranean. The two parties proved mu- 
tually agreeable. So we have now resolved our- 
selves into one party for a trip through Syria and 
Palestine. We employ the same Dragoman who 
furnishes everything, and pays all expenses of the 
journey from one end to the other. We are to 
ride on horses and camels, and sleep in tents. 
Four days are required to make preparation, nor 
are four dg-ys any too many. Camels, and horses, 
and donkeys, and mules, and bridles, and saddles, 
and whips, and spurs, and tents, and beds, and 
provisions, and cooking utensils, are to be made 
ready. Packing is to be done, letters are to be 
written, and costumes purchased. The American 



FROM REYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 253 

Consul is to be seen officially, Turkish passports 
are to be gotten, and a number of other things to 
be looked after. What I have to do during these 
four days reminds me of the man who was, at one 
and the same time, a lawyer, a merchant, a drug- 
gist, a dentist, a physician, a shoemaker, a miller, 
pastor of four churches and general missionary 
besides! 

At two o'clock on Saturday every thing is pro- 
nounced ready, and from that good hour we are 
to be known as the "Equestrian Pilgrims." What 
a formidable turnout is ours! A veritable cara- 
van! To accommodate and sQ.rvQ Jive pilgrims wo. 
have seven tents — I have to sleep in two tents — 
fifteen body-guards, or muleteers, and thirty head 
of camels, mules and donkeys! Nor is this all. 
Chairs and tables, tents and trunks, beds and 
blankets, and a hundred other things, are tied 
together and strapped on the backs of the ani- 
mals. Thus laden, each little donkey, as he goes 
jogging along, looks like a veritable Jumbo; and 
the camels, with these great packs on their backs^ 
look almost like walking mountains! These are 
all strung out one after another — one after an- 
other, the front end of the rear camel being tied 
to the hind end of the one before him, and that 
one to the next, and so on. I have been reading 
about caravans all my life and now I have one of 
my own. I am told to choose any one of the 
animals I want to ride, whereupon I select a small 
donkey, mouse-colored, except for the numerous 



254 FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 

stripes that wind around him — these give him 
something of a zebra-like appearance. I want to 
show the natives how supple I am, and, going up 
to the donkey and putting my arms on his back, I 
try to leap up. But, unfortunately, I leap over, 
and come down on the other end of my neck. 
Amid the loud acclamations of the natives, the 
stately procession moves off. The stars and 
stripes flutter in the breezes, while the music of 
the national hymn is borne away over the sea on 
the winors of the wind. 

The narrow streets of Beyrout are soon quit- 
ted, and we at once begin the ascent of Lebanon. 
The first thing that attracts our attention is a 
wide world of mulberry trees — it looks about 
seventeen thousand acres on either side of the 
road. The trees appear to be about eighteen 
feet high. Half naked boys and girls, men and 
women have climbed up the trees and are pluck- 
ing off the leaves here and there. I don't know 
what to make of it. The first thought that sug- 
gests itself is that "fig-leaf dresses" have come in 
fashion again. But Tolhammy my dragoman, 
says: "This is a great country for silk culture, 
and mulberry trees are cultivated, and the leaves 
gathered for the silk worms." In Damascus he 
says we shall see plenty of silk manufactured by 
hand. 

We meet a great many Arabs going into the 
city that we have just left. Several miles back I 
stopped one of these sons of the desert for a con- 



FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 255 

versation. I think w^ talked about an hour and 
thirteen minutes, more or less, and would, no 
doubt, have talked longer, but neither one of us 
understood a word the other said. Occasionally 
there was a lag in the conversation. While I 
was gathering this valuable information from the 
stranger, the other part of the caravan slacked 
never a pace. And now, looking aloft, I see high 
on the mountain-side a white city — a city of tents. 
This reminds me of Balaam who was traveling in 
this same country not far from here, and, seeing a 
sight just like this, he exclaimed: "How goodly 
are thy tabernacles, O Jacob and thy tents, O 
Israel !" 

The road, gleaming in the sunshine, looks at 
one time like a clothes-line hanging on the moun- 
tain-side; again it resembles a winding serpent 
crawling zigzag up the mountain as though it 
wants to swallow the tents. Climbing the hill, we 
pass a number of dilapidated villages on the right 
and left of the road. Just as the sun goes down 
to cool his hot face in the Mediterranean, we 
reach the tents pitched on Mt. Lebanon! At last 
the city is before us. Dismounting, and going 
into our new apartments, we can hardly believe 
we are in tents. The walls and ceiling look 
like white marble newly painted and beautifully 
frescoed. The rock floor is spread with rich 
Persian carpets and mats. Here are rocking- 
chairs, tables, bedsteads, washstands — every thing! 
"What style!" I say to the party. 



256 FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 

While we are rejoicing,'in steps an Arab and 
says: "Solimat neharlcsiade emborak." Joy de- 
parts at these words. With a look of surprise 
and a feeling of regret I say, "Sir?" He responds, 
"Solimat neharicsiade emborak." Rising to my 
feet I say, "Repeat that remark, please." Gesticu- " 
lating wildly, the Arab repeats with great empha- 
sis, "■ SoltJnat neharicsiade emborak!'' I thought he 
said my horse was loose. But after a while 
however, the Arab, by means of signs, gives me 
to understand that nothing serious has occurred; 
that he came in only to let me know supper is 
ready. I feel relieved and delighted. After a 
long ride over a rough country, we all have good 
appetites, and the announcement of supper is 
therefore joyful news. The evening meal being 
over, the pilgrims draw their chairs close together 
and sit for an hour or more talking about friends 
at home, about the past history and present con- 
dition of this country, and about Him whose 
footsteps have hallowed its soil. The prospect 
of traveling through this country thrills us all. 
Substituting the word Hill, for Grail, I can ap- 
propriate the language of Tennyson: 

" Never yet has the sky appeared so blue, nor earth so green, 
For all my blood dances in me, and I know 
That I shall light upon the Holy Grail." 

Night brings sweet rest to our tired bodies. 
Early in the morning, bright rays of cheerful 
sunshine steal into our tents and drive sleep away. 



FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON, 257 

We awake to find a bright, beautiful Sabbath day; 
and while with our bodies it is to be a day of rest, 
we pray that with our souls it may be a Sabbath 
day's journey towards the New Jerusalem. Still- 
ness pervades the air. The solemn silence is 
broken only by the mournful music of yonder 
restless sea. All the pilgrims except Johnson 
spend the day reading and meditating. He oc- 
cupies the time in writing to his — to his — grand- 
mother. 

Late in the afternoon our attention is attracted 
by an unheard of medley of sound. The noise 
that falls upon our ears is not more strange than 
the sight that greets our eyes is curious. The 
dragoman tells us not to be alarmed, and says it 
is only a wedding procession. Johnson is glad of 
that. I stand it for his sake. The procession 
consists of about a hundred persons, ninety-eight 
on foot and two riding grey horses, all singing 
and dancing as they come. Ten or twelve of the 
foQtmen are in front of the horses, while the 
others are behind. The leader of the van is an 
Arab of unusual length and gracefulness, clad in 
the most fantastic robes imaginable. In his two 
hands he holds a stick about six feet long, wrap- 
ped around with gay and fancy colors. The lead- 
er is coming backward, facing the advancing 
throng and keeps about ten paces in front of them. 
He is first on one side of the road and then on 
the other. He leaps; he bobs up and down: he 
bows and bends. At one moment his face is al- 



258 FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON, 

most on the ground, and the next his head is 
tossed high in the air. The stick is waved like a 
magician's wand. The man is active as a cat and 
every movement is graceful. As he leads, thte 
others follow his example. They all hop and skip 
and bow and bend and rise and fall together. 
Some sing while others blow or knock discordant 
sounds out of their rude instruments of music. 

Never before did Johnson behold a sight like 
this, nor until now did such a babbling confusion 
ever strike his ears. The procession draws close. 
The two persons on horseback are riding side by 
side. One is the bride, decked in colors gay and 
wreathed with flowers many. There are two tall 
men walking, one on either side of the horse, with, 
their arms locked around the bride ; I suppose to 
keep her from falling. Johnson touches me in the 
side and says : "Whittle, if that were my bride, I 
would n't let those fellows do that." The bride's 
face, according to the custom of the country, is 
covered by a long, flowing veil. The man by her 
side is not the groom. A man in this country will 
not condescend to gfo after a woman — not even 
after his bride! Woman is an inferior creature — 
she must humble herself and go to the man. 
The groom sends his friend or his servant for her, 
and I understand she is always willing to come. 
Johnson says it is very different in America. He 
says one refused to go with him when he went 
after her in person. 

Brides are bought and sold here now as they 



FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 259 

were in olden times, though there has been a 
great increase in price. Hebrews are good trad- 
ers and always have been. In Bible times they 
bought wives for twenty-five dollars, but now 
brides in this country sell for from seventy-five to 
one hundred dollars. I believe the men would 
buy them even if the price should be still higher. 
Of course they would buy them. Women are 
slaves. They are man's burden-bearers and noth- 
ing more! The Mohammedans have two, four or 
a half dozen wives. The Sultan has five hundred, 
and the people follow his example as far as 
possible. 

The wedding festivities, consisting of music, 
songs and dancing, last for a week, and then the 
bride is converted into a slave for her husband. 
In a few months she will probably be a slave for 
his next wife! 

Monday morning bright and early, we fold our 
tents and renew our pilgrimage. Lebanon con- 
tinues steep, rocky, rough and bare. Not a bush, 
not a blade of green grass, nothing but a long 
mountain range covered with loose stones, is to 
be seen. The hills are very productive — of rocks. 
Now and then we come to large camel pastures. 
As these long-legged, high-headed, two-storied 
animals are fat and flourishing, I conclude that 
they live on wind and stones. In the road we 
meet hundreds and hundreds of big camels and 
little camels, dun-colored, mouse-colored, white 
and black camels, laden with all kinds of oriental 



26o FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 

merchandise. Late in the afternoon, we for the 
first time catch a glimpse of snow-capped Hermon, 
some fifty miles away to the southwest. We take 
off our hats to this mountain monarch, promising 
him a visit later on. We now descend into the 
green valley, sixteen and a half miles wide and 
some sixty miles long, lying between Lebanon 
and anti-Lebanon. We want to see the Cedars 
of Lebanon; and in order to do this we are com- 
pelled just here to quit the Damascus road, and 
travel for three days up this beautiful valley, 
keeping close to the Lebanon side. 

On the second day, traveling up this valley, we 
come to what tradition says is Noah's tomb. 
Strange to say this tomb is eighty -five feet lang. 
It is built of stone and is eight feet wide, seven 
feet high and eight-five feet long! Seeing this, I 
am at once reminded of an incident that is said 
to have occurred with an American preacher. At 
the close of the Saturday service, the clergyman 
announced that he would preach again on Sun- 
day, after reading a certain portion of scripture. 
Before the hour for Sunday service, some mis- 
chievous boys slipped into the church with a 
bottle of glue and pasted two leaves of the Bible 
together, so that in reading the minister would 
miss connection. Eleven o'clock came, and with 
it came also a large concourse of people. As- 
cending the pulpit, the reverend gentleman open- 
ed the sacred book and began to read. On the 
bottom of one page he read: "And Noah, when 



FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 261 

he was an hundred and twenty years old, took 
unto himself a wife who was" — and then turning 
over the leaf and missing connection, he contin- 
ued, "who was an hundred and eighty-six cubits 
long, forty-seven cubits wide, built of gopher 
w^ood, stuck with pitch inside and out." With 
trembling knees and confused head, the minister, 
with stammering tongue said: "Brethren, I have 
been preaching twenty years and yet I confess 
that I have never seen this in the Bible before. 
But it is here and I accept it. Yes, brethren, I 
accept it as an undying evidence of the fact that 
we are fearfully and wonderfully made," So, 
since I find that Noah's tomb is eighty-five feet 
long, I am not much surprised to learn that Mrs. 
Noah was one hundred and eighty- six cubits long. 
Day has succeeded night again. This is the 
third day since we left the Damascus road. We 
are now camped in the valley at the base of 
Lebanon, which is at this point 10,000 feet high 
and almost as steep as the roof of a house. Many 
loose rocks and bowlders of all shapes and sizes 
are scattered promiscuously over the mountain 
side. There is no road to be seen — nothing more 
than a cow trail or hog path. And yet in order to 
see a single Cedar we are compelled to climb to 
yonder giddy heights. Well, we all start — three 
gentlemen and two ladies. One woman soon 
gives out, but the other is the kind of a woman 
who, when she says, "I will," means with a twist 
on it, ''I will!'' She says that she started and 



262 FROM BEYROUT TO TBE CEDARS OF LEBANON 

she is going. She reminds me of the French 
woman who started to the top of Mount Blanc. 
Twelve hundred feet before reaching the summit 
she gave out, and, being dragged by guides, she 
kept crying: "If I die carry me to the top." 

To climb Lebanon at this place is barely within 
the limits of possibility. The way is steep, high 
and rough, and at times perilous. To be sure, on 
foot one could climb it without danger, but not 
without great physical exertion. On horseback, 
however, it is a hazardous undertaking. No four- 
footed animal, save a mountain goat or an Ara- 
bian steed, dare undertake the ascent. If I live 
to get down, I shall christen my Arabian pony 
"Amnon, the reliable, the sure-footed." The 
mountain is scaled, the summit is reached, and no 
Cedars yet. I am now standing on the heights 
of Lebanon, looking down upon the blue Medi- 
terranean 10,000 feet below me and only three 
miles away towards the setting sun. The gray 
clouds, lying along the western horizon, look like 
white-winged ships floating on the bosom of the 
sea. For aught I know, they are ships freighted 
with whirlwinds and thunder-storms; or perchance 
they may be — I hope they are — freighted with 
rain to refresh this parched earth. 

Leavine the summit and cominof down three 
thousand feet on the western side, I find myself 
resting under the venerable Cedars of Lebanon, 
seven thousand feet above the sea. It is a perfect 
day. The sky is of a rich, deep, azure blue and 



FROM liEYROU'J- TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 263 

seems only a few feet above me. The atmosphere 
is pure and crisp. It is a glorious thino- to be 






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, 'K f A 1^ '^< J jM I 



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here. Look where you will, you find something 
to admire. The air is delightful; the earth, sea 
and sky are beautiful ; but the waving Cedars are 



264 FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 

the one central object of interest and admira- 
tion — their age, their history, their beauty ! Then 
come the sacred associations that cluster about 
the Cedars of Lebanon. All my life I have been 
reading of these trees. Before I could read, 
my mother used to sing me a sweet song about 
the Cedars of Lebanon. All of mother's songs 
were sweet, but especially sweet, I thought, was 
this one about the Cedars. And now I am here 
looking at them with my own eyes. Of all trees 
on earth those are by far the most renowned. 
Of all the vegetable kingdom they are the crown- 
ing glory. 

From this mountain Solomon got the timber 
to build his temple on Mount Moriah. In all 
probability some of these trees that I am now 
looking at were here in Solomon's day. I feel 
that I am in the presence of Age. These vener- 
able Cedars are not ringed round by years or 
decades, but by centuries! And yet their wrinkles 
may be counted by the score. These trees are 
mentioned more than twenty-five times in the 
pages of Sacred Writ. They are called "goodly 
Cedars." 

As I see these historic trees bowing and bend- 
ing in the cold and cutting breeze, 1 am naturally 
reminded of a thought beautifully expressed by 
the "sweet singer of Israel" where he says: 
"There shall be an handful of corn in the earth 
on the tops of the mountain ; the fruit thereof 
shall shake like Lebanon, and they of that city 



FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 265 

shall flourish like grass." We are told also that 
"the righteous shall flourish like the palm tree 
and orrow like a Cedar of Lebanon." I wonder 
why and how it is that the righteous can grow 
like a Cedar in Lebanon. Upon examination I 
find that these Cedars grow on a mountain top; 
that they grow out of a rock ; that they are root- 
ed in barrenness. I find that every crack and 
crevice in the rock is filled with their roots and 
fibres. The roots of the trees shoot themselves 
deep down through the rended rocks and take a 
firm hold upon the eternal hills. And when 
earthquakes come and the mountains reel and 
totter on their bases ; when cyclones come with 
death and destruction locked up in their wings; 
when the storms howl and the sea is lashed into 
rage and fury, — the Cedars of Lebanon do then 
bow and bend gracefully in the breezes ; but they 
are uprooted never. They say, 

"Let the winds be shrill, 
Let the waves roll high, 
We fear not wind or wave." 

And when the earthquakes have ceased and the 
mountains no longer reel; when the cyclones have 
passed ; when the sea is lulled to sleep and the 
winds are only a whisper, then the Cedars of Leb- 
anon lift themselves up in their pillared majesty, 
spread wide their broad arms and look up smil- 
ingly in the face of God as if to say : "We thank 
thee, O Lord God Almighty, for the firm footing 



266 FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 

that thou hast given us in the eternal rocks — in 
the everlastinof hills." I thank thee, O God, that 
the righteous grow like the Cedars of Lebanon. 
I bless thee that the righteous grow on a moun- 
tain top — on mount Calvary ; that they grow out 
of a rock — Jesus Christ, the Rock of Ages. 

Wherever the nails have torn His hands and 
His feet, where the cruel spear has pierced His 
side, these are the cracks and crevices where the 
roots and fibres of my heart can so fix and fasten 
themselves that when earthquakes social and cy- 
clones moral shall come, I will be uprooted never. 
I may bow and bend with the breezes, but wlien 
the earthquakes have passed and the storms are 
no more ; when the waves of infidelity have pass- 
ed, as always passed they have and always pass 
they must, then I will look up smilingly in the face 
of Jehovah and say: "I thank thee, O God, that 
none of these things move me ; that I can say 
with Paul of old, 'I am rooted and grounded in 
Christ;' that I stand now and forever unmoved 
and immovable, like the Cedars! " 

Reader, I have just stated that Solomon secured 
timber from this mountain to build the areat tem- 
pie in Jerusalem, It is quite possible that some 
of the trees before me were here in Solomon's 
day, and that because of their knots and rough- 
ness they were rejected by his workmen. We are 
told that God is building another temple in that 
other Jerusalem, and that our characters are to 
furnish the sticks of timber out of which it is to 



FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 26/ 

be built. We should see to it that our characters 
will not be rejected, but that they will be smooth- 
ed and polished ready to be wrought into that 
spiritual temple which shall stand throughout the 
endless cycles of eternity! 

The Cedars of Lebanon have almost become 
sacred, holy trees. I am therefore grieved to find 
so few of them left. This long mountain range 
that was once covered with them is now as bare 
as if it had never known any vegetation. Seeing 
that only a few hundred of the old Cedars remain, 
I am reminded of the language of Zechariah : 
"Open thy doors, O Lebanon, that the fire may 
devour thy Cedars. Howl, fir-tree, for the Cedar 
is fallen. Howl, O ye oaks of Bashan, for the 
forest of the vintage has come down." Most of 
the Cedars have indeed " come down," but some 
of the remaining ones are splendid enough to 
make up for those that are gone. One of these 
patriarchs of the forest is forty-eight feet in cir- 
cumference. Some of them rise up in their pil- 
lared majesty for eighty, one hundred or one hun- 
dred and twenty-five feet high, I suppose. Some 
of the largest ones are probably one hundred and 
fifty feet across, from bough to bough. The limbs 
usually grow out from the trunk at right angles. 
Other limbs grow out from those at right angles 
and so on, until even the smallest branches and 
twigs are horizontal like arbor vitse, except that 
arbor vitae stands up and the Cedar lies down fiat 
like a shingle. One limb of the Cedar is very 



268 FROM BEYROUT TO THE CEDARS OF LEBANON. 

much like a square of shingles on a flat-roofed 
house, and when limb is placed above limb they 
form a roof that turns water very well, and shuts 
out much of the sunlight. Another peculiarity of 
the Lebanon Cedar is that it bears a cone some- 
thing like our pine burrs, except that it never 
opens. 

Again, I say it is a grand, a glorious, a sweet 
privilege to sit beneath the wide-spreading branch- 
es of these time-honored trees and read what holy 
men of old wrote concerning them. But the day 
is far spent. Amnon is saddled. I must mount 
and see if he proves worthy of his new name. 



CHAPTER XXVI. 



FROM THE CEDARS OF LEBANON TO BAALBEK. 



Returning to Tents — Mountain Spurs and Passes — A Modern Thermopylae — Two 
Caravans Meet — A Fight to the Death — How Johnson Looks — Victory at 
Last — Into the Valley where the King Lost his Eyes — Playing at Agriculture 
— Squalid Poverty — Baalbek— Its Mighty Temples — Men, Mice and Monkeys 
— A Poem Writ in Marble. 



T^ EAVING the Cedars, and descending to the 
j \ base of the mountain where the tents were 
left, we start across the beautiful valley lying 
between the long mountain of Lebanon and anti- 
Lebanon. Before reaching the valley proper we 
are compelled to cross some rough mountain 
spurs and to go through some narrow mountain 
passes. It so happens that we meet a train of 
heavily laden camels. The fanatical and blood- 
thirsty Arabs managing the camels stop their 
caravan and obstinately refuse to give any part of 
the pass. Our body-guards come up. A quarrel 
ensues. A war of words leads to blows, and we 
have, en-icted before our own eyes, a second 
"Battle of the Giants." It looks to Johnson like 
the first one. The two parties, consisting of 
about forty Arabs, curse, threaten, close on each 
other, clinch, fight like fiends, grapple like giants. 
They fall to the earth in each other's embrace, 
roll over, first one on top and then the other. 



270 FROM THE CEDARS OF LEBANON TO BAALBEK 

They bite, kick and scratch each other. Together 
they fall and together they rise again — one bites 
the dust and then another. Javelins are used. 
Stones fly, sabres flash — gods ! how they fight ! 
Heads are mashed and limbs are broken. Hair 
flies and blood flows. The horses scare, the 
women scream and Johnson looks as if he wants 
to say : 

" Lay on, MacDuff, 
And damned be him that first cries, 'Hold, enough !'" 

At last the enemy is repulsed and victory 
perches upon our banner. The dust and din of 
battle are no more. We are relieved ; for danger 
was imminent and suspense correspondingly great. 
It is the greatest wonder, and also the greatest, 
blessing imaginable, that no one was killed. If 
one of the natives had been killed, I am sure the 
whole community would have been aroused, and 
would have poured out their indignation and wrath 
upon our Christian heads — "Christian dogs," they 
call us. I see from the London Ttmes that only a 
few weeks ago twenty-four Christians were killed 
in a fray with the Arabs, not far from this place. 
We would not willingly harm a hair of their 
heads. All we wanted was room to pass, and 
having secured that we continue our journey. 

The mountain gap lets us once more Into the 
valley which is, as before stated, fifteen to eighteen 
miles wide and some sixty miles long. In this 
valley, and not far from here. Is Riblah, where 
Nebuchadnezzar had his head-quarters during the 



FROM THE CEDARS OF LEBANON TO BAALBECK. 27 I 

campaign against Jerusalem. When the holy 
city fell, Zedekiah, King of Judea, fled to Jericho 
where he was captured, thence he was brought to 
Riblah. Here, after witnessing the murder of his 
sons, poor Zedekiah was subjected to the painful 
ordeal of haying his eyes put out. To this place, 
also, Pharaoh Necho, after his brilliant victory 
over the Babylonians, summoned Jehoahaz from 
Jerusalem. 

The valley is now used as pastures and farming 
lands; wheat, oats and grapes being the principal 
productions. The river Leontes flows through 
the plain, and the fields are watered mostly by 
irrigation. Yet these people are only playing 
with agriculture. The valley is rich and fertile, 
and would abundantly reward honest labor. But 
honest labor is unknown in Syria. These trifling 
people anger the soil with their rude implements 
of agriculture, and the soil answerswith a crop of 
thorns and thistles. She thrusts out her claws 
and thus frights off the lean, lazy, leisure-loving 
Bedouin. The people sow the seeds of idleness 
and reap the legitimate fruits — hunger, want and 
starvation. I never before knew what squalid 
poverty meant. But if it is to go half naked, and 
almost the other half, too; if it is for human 
beings to live in the same rock-pens with cows, 
goats and asses, and that, too, without a fireplace, 
without chairs, tables or bedsteads; if it is to live 
on half rations of "husks and hominy," — if this is 
squalid poverty, I have seen it and know what it 



272 FROM THE CEDARS OF LEBANON TO BAALBECK. 

means. Each family seems to be blest- with a 
dozen or "fifteen heirs — heirs of filth and poverty! 
I am reminded of the old adage, "poor people for 
children, and negroes for dogs." These people 
and their ancestry have inhabited this country 
only 4,000 years, and yet within that short time 
they have managed to accumulate a mass of filth 
and ignorance that is truly astonishing. 

We are now encamped in the citadel of Baal- 
bek. This place has much interest for the travel- 
er and the historian, because of its once mighty 
temples. The temples were three in number. 
They were all built on the same stupendous sub- 
structions. The rock foundations go deep into 
the ground, and are traversed by great subterra- 
nean passages which look like railroad tunnels 
through mountains of granite. The Temple of 
the Sun was three hundred feet lono-, one hundred 
and sixty feet wide, and was surrounded by fifty- 
four columns, six of which are standing at present. 
These six are enough for twelve months' study. 
They are solid marble, eight feet in diameter, and 
together with the entablature which joins them at 
the top, ninety feet high! How shapely, how 
graceful, how towering and sublime ! The carving 
on the entablature is exquisite. It looks like 
stucco work. The other columns are fallen and 
broken, but these six look as if they were put up 
only yesterday. 

The Great Temple is better preserved; its po- 
tent walls, and twenty-three of its Corinthian col- 



FROM THE CEDARS OF LEBANON TO BAALBECK. 273 

umns, Still stand. There is no wood about the 
building. Even its vaulted roof, one hundred feet 
above you, is marble. The under side of this 
marble roof is beautifully chiseled. As one views 
it with the natural eye, it look like delicate lace 
work; but by the aid of field glasses one can 
trace the designs of the artist, and see that "there 
is method in his madness." One can see men, 
animals, leaves, flowers and fruits delicately carv- 
ed in the hieh lifted stone. One sees, or fancies 
he sees, oaks and acorns, moons and mares, men, 
mice and monkeys, doves, dogs and donkeys, 
bulls, boars and bears, pigs, 'possums and puppies, 
boys and bonnets, ladies and lizards, all beauti- 
fully carved and sweetly blended one with the 
other. "'Tis a vision, 'tis an anthem sung in 
stone, a poem writ in marble." 

But probably the thing that most impresses 
one about the ruins of Baalbek Is the enormous 
size of the stones used in its buildings. I have 
never seen or read of such stones as were used in 
building these temples. Many of them are as 
large as one of our ordinary freight cars. Three 
of these stones, lying end to end in the walls of 
the temple, measure two hundred and ten feet. 
I go to the quarry, half a mile away, from which 
these colossal stones were taken. There I find a 
companion stone to those in the buildings. It is 
fourteen feet high, seventeen feet broad and 
seventy-one feet long. Who ever heard of such 
stones being handled! Two six mule teams might 




274 



RUINS OF BAALBECK. 



FROM THE CEDARS OF LEBANON TO BAALBECK. 275 

be driven side by side on the stone, and tliere 
would be room for a foot path on either side the 
wagons. No pigmies they — those builders of 
Baalbek. A race of giants or of gods must have 
handled these stones! No one knows when, how, 
or by whom these temples were built. We know 
this, however, they were built, not for an age, but 
for all time. 



CHAPTER XXVII. 



DAMASCUS. 



A Beautiful Valley — Flowing Rivers — Mohammed at Damascus — Garden of God 
— Paul at Damascus — Mohammedan at I'rayer — Valley More Beautiful — Dam- 
ascus Exclusively Oriental— Quaint Architecture — " Often in Wooden Houses 
Golden Rooms we Find " — Narrow Streets — Industrious People — Shoe Ba- 
zaars — Manufacturing- Silk by hand — Fanatical Merchants — "Christian 
Dogs" — Cabinet-Making — Furniture Inlaid with Pearl — Camel Markets — A 
Progenitor of the Mule — Machinery Unknown — Ignorance Stalks Abroad — 
Fanatical Arabs — A Massacre— The Governor Gives the Signal — Christians 
Killed — French Army — Abraham Our Guide — Brained before Reaching the 
Post-Office — Warned not to Look at the Women — Johnson's Regret — Vailed 
Women — Johnson's Explanation. 



TTT four o'clock, on the second day after leaving 
r\ Baalbek, I spy one of the prettiest objects 
that ever greeted human vision. It is 
Damascus, the oldest city in the world — Damas- 
cus, laid out by Uz, the great-grandson of Noah. 
For days I have been riding over a ruined and 
desolate country, and now my eyes fall and feast 
on a broad, rich valley, through which flow Abana 
and Pharpar, two rivers of pure water. The whole 
valley is one great garden, or orchard, in which 
flourishes almost every tropical plant. Here are 
the orange, olive and oleander, the peach, pear, 
palm and pome-granate, the banana, the apple, 
apricot and myrtle. . Amid the rich green foliage 
of these trees, their golden fruit is seen. Autumn, 
which is only summer meeting death with a smile. 



DAMASCUS. 277 

has seared the leaves of some of the more delicate 
plants of the valley. Red leaves are beautifully 
interwoven with the green, and they gleam in the 
rays of the setting sun like sheets of purest gold. 
Here and there tall and slender silver poplars rise 
high, and are gracefully swaying to and fro in the 
evening breezes. 

Damascus is situated in the midst of this luxuri- 
ant garden. Looking down from the hilltop I see 
the taller houses, the mosques and minarets, rising 
from amidst the luxuriant foliage of the trees. 
Ah, what a picture ! According to tradition, when 
Mohammed reached this point and looked down 
upon Damascus for the first time, he said : " Man 
can enter only one paradise, and I prefer to enter 
the one above." So he sat down here and feasted 
his eyes upon the earthly paradise of Damascus 
and went away without entering its gates, that 
hereafter he might be permitted to enter the 
portals of the paradise of God. A stone tower 
marks the spot where the prophet stood. From 
that early period Damascus has been regarded by 
all Arabs as an earthly reflection of paradise, where 
a foretaste of all the joys of heaven are obtain- 
able. In accordance with the description given 
in the Koran, the Mohammedan Bible, Arabs 
picture to themselves paradise as a limitless 
orchard, traversed by streams of water, where the 
most delicious fruits are ever ready to drop into 
the mouth. 

When we remember that Damascus is situated 
on the edge of the great Syrian desert, that it is 



78 



DAMASCUS, 



surrounded on three sides by hills,' high and lifted 
up, and that the whole country for miles and 
scores of miles around is bleak, parched and deso- 
late, we can not for a moment be surprised at the 
pleasing- effect the sight of this smiling garden 
produces in the» heart of the Arab. Probably 



' ' IJJ.W*^,^-'!, 




these swarthy sons of the desert have been trav- 
eling for ten days or a fortnight, coming from 
Palmyra or Bagdad, coming from central Arabia 
or Persia, coming across the arid plain where 



DAMASCUS. 279 

naught but broad oceans of sand stretch out be- 
fore them, with not a blade of green grass to 
enliven the scene or to "rest the dazzled sight." 
Finally the fortnight has past; the journey has 
ended; and the Arabs stand at last upon this 
hilltop and look down upon yonder green garden 
of God. In contemplating such a scene, after 
such a journey, these sons of Ishmael are moved 
by emotions strong and deep. They have found 
trees in the wilderness, springs in the desert ; and 
they can but say: "Though old as history itself, 
thou art fresh as the breath of spring, blooming 
as thine own rosebud, and fragrant as thine own 
orang-e-blossom, O Damascus, pearl of the East." 

This is the scene that Paul was looking upon 
when suddenly a great light shone round about 
him from heaven, and he fell to the earth as dead. 
Only a few feet from where I stand, tradition 
points out the place where he fell. Paul, you 
remember, was taken up and carried into the city. 
Desiring to follow him, I leave the mountain top 
and approach the valley. Damascus is surround- 
ed now, as in Paul's day, by a stone wall twenty- 
five or thirty feet high. Entering the city through 
the Jerusalem gate, I am at once attracted by a 
man prostrate on the river bank. Placing his 
palms on the ground, and lifting himself the 
length of his long arms, he looks down upon the 
glassy surface of the river as though he were 
gazing at his image reflected in the water. Then, 
bendino- his elbows, he once more lets his breast 



28o DAMASCUS. 

to the earth. This is repeated over and over 
again. While going through this strange perfor- 
mance, the man is constantly mumbling and mut- 
tering in some unknown Eastern tongue. Rising 
to his feet, and lifting his face to the sky, the' Arab 
repeatedly smites himself upon the brow, breast 
and mouth. Then waving his hand towards 
Heaven, he cries aloud: "Suah baha, yalla Mo- 
hammed, Mohammed, Mohammed!" I ask, "Tol- 
hammy, what means this.?" "Why, sir, that is a 
sacred river. The man was worshipping the river, 
and then, rising, he called upon Mahomet, his god, 
to accept his worship. He says 'O Mahomet, 
accept my worship, and (placing his hand on his 
brow) I will think of thee with this mind; (on 
his breast) I will love thee with this heart; (with 
hand upon his mouth) and with these lips I will 
speak thy praises abroad. Hear me, O Moham- 
med, Mohammed, Mohammed!'" Who could see 
a sight like this without thinking of Him who 
said: "Pray not upon the street corners, to be 
seen of men ; but pray secretly, and your Father 
who seeth in secret, will reward you openly." 

The valley was charming, even when viewed 
from the hilltop; but the laughing water, the 
green foliage and the golden fruit have grown 
more and more beautiful as we have approached 
nearer to them. " Abana and Pharpar, rivers of 
Damascus," are each divided into eight artificial 
channels, so there are sixteen small rivers flowing 
through the city, bringing fresh and sparkling 



DAMASCUS. 281 

water into almost every yard. The luxuriant 
vegetation of this well-watered valley is never 
scorched by summer's fierce heat, nor chilled by 
winter's frosty breath. It is a perpetual growth. 
Flowers and fruits are always on the trees, fra- 
grance and music always in the air. 

Damascus is the capital of Syria. It has one 
hundred and eighty thousand inhabitants, and a 
larcre manufacturino- interest. As a commercial 
and distributing centre, it has no equal in the 
Orient. Great camel caravans are constantly ar- 
riving from, and departing for, Palmyra and Bag- 
dad, and all the other more important cities of 
Persia and central Arabia. Being an inland city, 
hence unaffected by European thought and civili- 
zation, Damascus is exclusively Eastern ; and is, 
therefore, the best place on earth to get correct 
conceptions of Oriental life and ideas. 

Coming into the rnidst of the city, we find the 
houses are quaint and characteristically Eastern. 
From their appearance, one would suppose that 
they were built 1,500 or 2,000 years ago. Most of 
them are one story high, and are built of stone, 
and laro-e sun-dried brick made half and half of 
straw and white clay. Sometimes a dozen or 
twenty houses are covered by the same roof. On 
going into some of these miserable-looking huts, 
we are reminded that "often in wooden houses 
golden rooms we find." Some of these wealthy 
Damascene merchants live in style — not in Amer- 
ican or European style, but in style after the Eas- 



262 DAMASCUS. 

tern idea. Their houses, though small, and rough 
of exterior are richly furnished. Frequently they 
are lined with marble. The walls and ceiling-s are 
beautifully frescoed, while the floor is laid with 
rich Persian carpets. And yet in these houses we 
find no chairs, tables or bedsteads. The mer- 
chants, though dressed in silks, sit flat on the 
carpet or on small mats. Their beds consist, 
usually, of pallets made of soft and beautiful 
Persian rugs. "A strange way for wealthy people 
to live," you say. Well, yes, it is decidedly 
strange to you ; but you must remember that 
your way of living would be just as strange to 
these Damascene folk. 

The streets are exceedingly narrow, being not 
more than from nine to twelve feet wide. The 
stores or shops on either side of the street are 
little more than holes in the wall, usually about 
six feet wide and eight feet deep. The floor of 
this stall is twelve to eighteen inches above the 
ground. The end facing the street is open, while 
on the two sides and the back end, shelf rises 
above shelf. Goods are arranged on these, and 
also suspended from the ceiling. The customer, 
should one chance to come along, stands in the 
street and bargains with the merchant, who sits flat 
on the floor in the centre of the stall. With a 
hook in his hand, he, without rising, reaches to one 
shelf or another, and. drags down such goods as 
may please the purchaser's fancy. These people 
eat no idle bread. As soon as the customer is 



DAMASCUS. 283 

gone, the merchant continues to manufacture sad- 
dles, shoes, silks, or such goods as he may deal in. 

I was never before so impressed with industry. 
Damascus is a great manufacturing centre. The 
people have no machinery — all work is done by 
hand, and nothingf is done within walls or behind 
curtains. Caps and carpets, saddles and sabres, 
shoes and shawls, silks and safes, beds and bas- 
kets, and a hundred other things, are manufactur- 
ed on the streets in the open air before our eyes. 
One entire street is given up to a single industry. 
For instance the street here to my right is called 
the shoe bazaar. It is probably a quarter of a 
mile long ; and on either side of the street, from 
one end to the other, are men, women and chil- 
dren, seated on mats or flat down on the ground 
with their limbs folded under them. All are as 
busy as bees, sewing and stitching leather, making 
shoes. If one wants to buy a pair of shoes, he 
trades with the man who makes them. The 
merchant does not stop work, but talks without 
looking up. 

Most of the manufacturers are eaeer to trade 
with Europeans and Americans, but some of them 
are so fanatical that they will not receive money 
from "Christian dogs." Numerous poles are 
thrown across the streets, twelve or fourteen feet 
from the ground, from which strings are hanging. 
When the shoes are finished, they are tied to these 
strings and left suspended. Looking down the 
street, one sees hundreds and hundreds of shoes 



284 DAMASCUS. 

dangling in the air, about four feet from the 
ground. 

Silk bazaars are numerous. Looking down 
these several streets, one sees many weavers seat- 
ed on the ground, plying their shuttles. Above 
their uncombed heads is silk of every grade and 
color, suspended in the air and trembling in the 
wind. As with shoes and silks, so also with car- 
pets saddles, and other departments of industry. 

The leading industry of Damascus is cabinet- 
making. The furniture made here is of the finest 
woods, and is inlaid with mother-of-pearl; hence 
it is perfectly exquisite and quite costly. Skilled 
artisans are to be found in these different depart- 
ments of work. The best of them receive only 
from sixty to eighty cents per day, while craftsmen 
of equal skill, in our country, command four to 
five dollars per day. 

Thursday of each week presents a busy scene 
at the donkey and camel markets. Hundreds of 
half-dressed and hard-looking camel raisers from 
the desert drive their patient beasts, old and 
young, into an open square in the midst of the 
city. Sellers, buyers and traders, wearing differ- 
ent costumes, representing different tribes and 
countries, meet. Going in among the camels, 
they catch, ride and drive them. The animals are 
priced, and trouble begins. The purchaser offers 
the seller one-third, or one-fourth of his price. 
This is taken as an insult. They quarrel, curse 
each other, and sometimes fight, the friends on 



DAMASCUS. 285 

either side taking- part. Finally the difficulty is 
settled by an agreement to "split the difference;" 
so the camel is sold at half of the first price — 
frequently for less. Late in the evening they 
adjourn in much disorder. Turbaned Arabs now 
lead long trains of camels clown different streets 
to the several g-ates of the city. Tomorrow morn- 
ing, at an early hour, these much abused "ships of 
the desert" will be loaded and started out on a 
long voyage across an ocean of sand. 

The donkey-markets create less confusion. 
Donkeys, however, have no unimportant part to 
play in the daily life of Damascus. They are in- 
dispensable. They take the place of our drays, 
carts and market-wagons. One may look up the 
street at almost any moment, and see a pair of 
ears cominof. This is regarded as a sure sio^n 
that a progenitor of the mule will be along after 
a while. 

I repeat that all goods manufactured in Damas- 
cus are made by hand, machinery being unknown. 
Probably three-fourths of the people here never 
saw or heard of a daily newspaper. They know 
nothing of the outside world. They never learn 
anything, never invent anything. They repudiate 
and scorn anything that is new. They regard an 
invention as an offspring of the devil. A Chris- 
tian .they hate as they do a serpent. Ignorance 
is the most prevalent thing in Damascus." It 
walks the streets; it sits in the shops; it drives 
camels; it stares the traveler in the face, go where 



286 DAMASCUS. 

he will. Here, too, as elsewhere, ignorance has 
borne her legitimate fruit — superstition and fana- 
ticism. The people are, I believe, as fanatical as 
the devil wants them to be. Only a few years 
ago, their fanaticism arose to such a pitch that 
they, without the slightest provocation, pounced 
upon, and killed, five thousand Christians in the 
streets of Damascus! Men, women and children 
were butchered indiscriminately like sheep. Their 
mangled bodies were piled up in the streets, and 
scattered through the city, for days and days. 
The Mohammedans would not defile their pure (?) 
hands by putting them on "Christian dogs" — they 
had killed them — that was enough. From Da- 
mascus the thirst for blood spread throughout all 
Syria, and no less than 14,000 Christians perished. 
One would naturally suppose that the govern- 
ment would protect life better than that. But the 
Pasha, or governor, of Syria was the man who 
o-ave the signal for the massacre to begj^in. And 
it continued until the French government inter- 
fered. Napoleon III, whom the world is so fond 
of condemning, dispatched a body of ten thou- 
sand well-armed troops here to stop that human 
butchery. The Pasha and other officials were 
arrested and beheaded in the city. The French 
soldiers, following the custom of the old Romans, 
constructed a military road from Beyrout to 
Damascus. This road, which is still in good re- 
pair, is the only guarantee of safety Christians 
now have among these heathen people. 



DAMASCUS. 287 

My guide in Damascus is named Abraham. I 
have not met Isaac and Jacob, but have become 
somewhat intimate with Abraham. He tells me 
that his father and mother were victims of that 
horrible massacre; that when killed, their blood 
and brains spattered upon him ; that his escape 
was little less than miraculous ; that he, with a 
number of other Christians, was shut up in the 
citadel for three days; that for three days and 
nights the Mohammedans stood there with their 
battering rams, thundering against the walls and 
gates of the citadel, which were just ready to 
totter and fall when the French army came up 
and put a stop to the whole inhuman business. 

Several persons who were eye-witnesses to the 
whole scene have given me a full and detailed 
account of the massacre. Mohammedans from 
their beginning may be tracked through history 
by a trail of blood. They seem to have a thirst 
that nothing but human gore will satiate. This 
massacre of Damascus is their last and crowning 
act. It is worthy of their bloody history. They 
destroyed "even till destruction sickened." I have 
just read a history of this fearful slaughter which 
closes with this sentence: "Unfortunately, since 
the massacre matters have improved but little." 
I dare not walk the streets of Damascus to-day 
with a Bible in hand, and let the people know 
what book it is. I would be in danger of being 
brained before reaching the post-office. 

The guide-book warns us not to look at the 



DAMASCUS. 



women. This goes hard with Johnson. I regret 
it on his account. There is a custom in this coun- 
try, which practically amounts to a law, that the 
women shall keep their faces vailed. Yesterday, 
while walking up a narrow and gloomy-looking 
alley, we saw a woman coming towards us. 
Touching me in the side with his elbow, Johnson 
said: "Whittle, I am going to look at her a little, 
anyhow." When we met the woman, she piteous- 
ly cried: "Howazhu, howazhu, bachsheesh, bach- 
sheesh," which being interpreted means, " O, gen- 
tlemen, gentlemen, money, money." Johnson re- 
sponded : "Lift your vail, then." When the 
ill-favored female drew her vail aside, Johnson 
gave her three piasters (about nine cents) and 
immediately said: "Put down your vail quickly, 
and I will give you three more."- I was sorry for 
my traveling companion. He looked disappoint- 
ed. He said that the reason the women had to 
keep their faces covered was, that they were so 
ugly that to expose them would subject men to 
sore eyes — if not to blindness. 

The early religious history of Damascus is of 
peculiar interest to all Christians. A great perse- 
cution arose against the Christians in Jerusalem. 
Saul of Tarsus made havoc of the church, entering 
into every house, and, haling men and women, 
committed them to prison, breathing out threaten- 
ings and slaughter against the disciples of the 
Lord. He obtained letters from the Jewishau- 
thorities, authorizing him to arrest and carry to 



DAMASCUS. 289 

Jerusalem all Christians whom he might find in 
Damascus. 

As he journeyed, he came near Damascus, and 
suddenly there shined round about him a light 
from Heaven, and he fell to the earth. When Saul 
asked of the Lord, "What wilt thou have me to 
do.?" the Lord said unto him, ''Arise, and go into 
the city, and it shall be told thee what thou must 
do." Saul rose from the earth and they brought 
him into Damascus, and he stopped with Judas, 
who lived on the street that is called Straight. 
The Lord directed Ananias to go to Saul, and 
instruct him what to do. The scales fell from 
Saul's eyes, and he arose and was baptized ; and 
straightway he preached Christ, that he was the 
Son of God. This created a great disturbance in 
Damascus, and the Jews held a mass meeting and 
decided to kill Saul. For this purpose the Jews 
watched the gates of the city day and night. In 
order to save his life, the disciples took Saul by 
night and let him down by the wall in a basket. 

Damascus is now pretty much as it was eighteen 
hundred years ago. The places mentioned in 
connection with Paul are still pointed out — with 
what degree of certainty, I can not say. Of 
course I visited the places where "he fell to the 
earth," and where "he was let down over the wall 
in a basket." At this point the wall is some thirty 
feet high, and is surmounted by a house which is 
occupied by a Christian family. The reputed 
houses of Ananias and Judas are partly under- 



DAMASCUS. 291 

ground, and are built of huge stones. These 
strongly built houses are certainly very old ; and 
it has been suggested that if Ananias and Judas 
did not live in them at the time of Paul, some 
other people did. 

If I should to-day begin to proclaim the gospel 
of Christ with the same zeal and earnestness that 
characterized the ministry of Paul, I would have 
to be let down over the walls in a basket, or else 
be butchered on the street. 



CHAPTER XXVIII. 

THE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 



Naaman, the Leper — His Visit to Elisha — The Prophet's Command — Naa- 
man Cured — House Turned into a Leper Hospital — Off to the Lepers' 
Den — Origin, History and Nature of Leprosy — Arrival at the Gloomy Prison 
— Abraham, "I Didn't Promise to Go into the Tomb with You '' — "Screw 
your Courage to the Sticking; Point" — Johnson's Repl , — Suspicious of the Arab 
Gate-Keepers — A Charge to Abraham — Life in Johnson's Hands — Mami. 
and the Currant-Bush — Among the Lepers — Judgment Come — Graves Open 
— Living Corpses — Walking Skeletons — Strewing out Coins — An Indescriba 
ble Scene — An Indelible Picture — Horrible Dreams. 



NAAMAN lived in Damascus. "Now Naa- 
man, captain of the host of Syria, was a 
great man" with his Master, and "honor- 
able, because by him the Lord had given deliver- 
ance unto Syria; he was also a mighty man of 
valor, but he was a leper." So Naaman left 
Damascus, and went down to Samaria to see 
Elisha, that the prophet might heal him of the 
leprosy. Elisha told Naaman to go and dip him- 
self seven times in the Jordan. The haughty 
Syrian became indignant at the idea, and it was 
natural that he should. The people of Damascus 
are now, and have always been, proud of their 
rivers. They sing about Abana and Pharpar, as 
also about the shades, fruits and flowers of the 
valley. 

Old Naaman was a true Damascene. So, when 



THE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 293 

told to bathe in the Jordan, he said : " Abana and 
Pharpar, rivers of Damascus, are they not better 
than all the waters of Israel? '" He wanted to q-q 
back to his, own native city, and there bathe in 
the fountain of the gods, whose pearly waters had 
rolled themselves through his heart and cut their 
channels there. Finally Naaman was persuaded 
to follow Elisha's directions, and was healed of 
his leprosy. But, strangely enough, his house in 
Damascus was turned into a leper hospital, and 
remains one to this day. 

Having heard so much of this loathsome disease, 
I am anxious to see it. So I call out, " Abraham, 
Abraham." 

"Sir?" 

" Bring out the horses, and let's go to the 
hospital." 

"Yes, sir." 

He brings out three horses — ears about fifteen 
inches long — and Johnson, Abraham and I are 
off for the "lepers' den." On the way, Johnson 
says : " Whittle, how long has the leprosy existed ? " 

My reply is, "History traces the disease back 
to twelve or fifteen hundred years before the 
Christian era." 

Johnson. "Where did it originate?" 

I explain that the origin of the leprosy is, to 
some extent, shrouded in mystery ; that I was 
reading the other day from Strabo. a Greek 
author, who says that leprosy was generated in 
Egypt among the Jews, while they were in bondage 



294 ''"HE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 

under the Pharaohs. He says the Jews were 
banished to rock-quarries, where they had been 
getting stone to build pyramids and walled cities; 
that, having double burdens to perform, and half 
rations to live upon, they killed and ate diseased 
hogs which gave rise to a disease among the 
people known as the leprosy. For this reason 
the Jews passed a law that all Hebrews should 
ever after abstain from eating flesh of swine. 
That law, we know, is still observed, but Strabo's 
account of the origin of the leprosy is probably 
a myth. 

Johnson asks: "Does the Bible throw no light 
upon this subject.''" 

"None at all. The Good Book has much to 
say about the disease, and the ceremonial law- 
concerning the treatment of lepers is strict and 
explicit. As to its origin, , however, not a word 
IS said. 

Leprosy is the most fearful disease that was 
ever visited upon the human family. Never yet 
has a case of it been cured without the direct inter- 
vention of God. Man's skill is powerless to stay 
its ravages on the human frame and system. If 
there were no leprosy on earth to-day, probably 
there never would be any. It is not now, so far 
as can be ascertained, generated anew and afresh. 
It is inherited from one's parents, and in this way 
it is handed down from generation to generation. 
It is absolutely impossible for leprous parents to 
give birth to a child who will not die of leprosy, 



THE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 295 

unless, perchance, the babe die before the disease 
breaks out. The child may possibly remain 
sound and healthy until he is six or even sixteen 
years old ; but the fearful disease is in his bones 
and blood and system, and it is coming to the 
surface — it is coming to stay, to eat up the body 
and "steal away the life o' the building." 

Leprosy warns its victim of its approach by a 
cold and chilly sensation, which alternates with 
fever. Then a purple fleck or blotch, with a hard 
lump under it, comes on the face. The blotches 
now come thick and fast. Blotch meets blotch, 
until the bloated face is covered, and the cheeks 
look like purple clusters of grapes. The blotches 
finally swell, itch, fester, burst and pour forth an 
immense amount of pus and corruption. Then 
they heal up for a while, only, however, to itch, 
swell and burst again. 

About a mile and a half from the centre of the 
city, we see a great rock wall, enclosing twenty or 
more acres of land, rising up like the walls of 
a penitentiary, twenty-five or thirty feet high. 
Pointing to this wall, Abraham says: "There is 
the hospital." 

I respond, "Yes, there it is, but I want to go in 
it. 

"Want to go in it.-*" said he. 

"Yes, Abraham, and I want you to go with me." 

With a strange look in his face, and a tremor 
in his voice, he answers, "You don't mean that, 
do you?" 



296 THE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 

"Most emphatically, I do. I want you to go in 
with me." 

"Well, sir," he continues, "I can't do it." 

"But," said I, "look here, Abraham, I have paid 
you my money. You are my guide. You have 
promised to show me through the city." 

"Yes, sir, but I didn't promise to go into the 
tomb with you," was his response. 

Turning to Johnson, I request him to accom- 
pany me. I show him a book which says that it 
is questionable whether leprosy is at all contag- 
ious; that it is possible for one to shake hands 
with a leper without any ill effects. Besides, I 
tell him that we will arm ourselves so as to keep 
them away from us — that. we will fill our pockets 
with coins, and, if the lepers come close to us, will 
strew them like seed corn on the ground, and 
while they stop to gather them up, we will get a 
good look at them. I explain futher to my com- 
panion that even if the lepers were disposed to 
come up to us, we could hght them off with our 
heavy canes. 

After placing these arguments before him, I 
make a final appeal; "Johnson, don't desert me. 
Nerve yourself and go in with me." Seeing that 
he is wavering and hesitating, I say: "Johnson, 
screw your courage to the sticking point, and let's 
go in." 

He responds : "It won't stick." 

"Try it again!" 

He repeats, ''It zvont stick T' 



THE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 297 

By this time we are at the heavy, iron gate 
which is locked, and guarded by two strong and 
stalwart Arabs. I say to one of them: "Will you 
let me in.? '' 

"Yes," was the reply. 

"Will you let me out? " 

After a long pause, he responds in a deep, 
husky voice, "Y-e-s." 

I repeat the question, and receive the same 
significant frown and gutteral sound as an answer. 
I hardly know what is meant. I do not know but 
that the idea is to get me in, and then lock the 
gate and exact so much money before letting me 
out. I have not "so much money" to give. 

■Turning to my guide, I say, "Abraham, Abra- 
ham, I charge you by the money I have paid you, 
by your sense of honor and manhood; I charge 
you by him whose name you bear, let not this 
gate close until I come out." 

With an honest emphasis, he responds, "I will 
guard the gate." 

Laying my hand upon my companion's shoul- 
der, I address him thus: Johnson, I, to some ex- 
tent, commit my life into your keeping. I charge 
you by the sacred memory of mother, home and 
Heaven, by the golden ties of friendship, I charge 
you, Johnson, let not this gate close until I come 
out." 

With tears in his eyes, and his great heart well- 
ing without him, he replies: "Whittle, if necessary. 



298 THE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 

I will block this gate open with my dead body 
until you come out." 

My mind is now made up. I am determined to 
enter. You naturally ask, "Why go into such a 
place.?" I can hardly tell you why, unless for- 
sooth, I am something like Mamie. Mamie want- 
ed to go into the garden and see the flowers. 
Her mother said, "Well, my child, you may go 
into the garden to see the flowers, but you must 
not eat any of those berries on the currant-bush." 

"No, ma'am, I won't." 

Twenty minutes later Mamie emerges from the 
garden, licking out her tongue and smacking her 
lips, while her face is stained with the berries. 

" Did you eat any of those berries, Mamie? " 

" No, ma'am." 

"Come, my child, don't tell me a story." 

Crying and trembling with fear, Mamie says, 
"Well, mamma, I did eat a few of 'em." 

"Why did you disobey mother.?" 

"Because I couldn't help it," was Mamie's re- 
sponse. 

"Why could you not help it.? " said the mother. 

"'Cause the devil tempted me," 

Mother. "Why did you not say, 'Get thee be- 
hind me, Satan'.?" 

Mamie. " I did say, ' Get thee behind me, Satan,' 
and he got behind me and pushed me, right into 
the bush." 

So I am tempted not, like Mamie, by one, but 
by a half dozen devils. I say : ' Get thee behind 



THE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 299 

me, satans." At this, some get behind, while 
others get before me. The spirit of adventure, or 
something else, catches hold of the lapels of my 
coat. Now they push and pull and shove and 
drag me in, until finally I wake up on the inside 
of a living tomb. 

Going in some distance from the gate and 
around one or two houses, I see a great number 
of lepers, lying on the ground, sunning themselves. 
A few of the miserable creatures are sitting up. 
Seeing me, they make a strange and hideous 
noise. This arouses the others. 

They rise — three here, four there, a half dozen 
yea, a dozen, yonder — still they rise. It looks 
almost as if judgment had come; as if the tombs 
are opening and the graves are giving up their 
dead skeletons. They form a semi-circle about 
me. Ah, what a ghastly sight ! Men, women and 
children in all stages of the leprosy. Some of 
them look more like fiends than human beings. 
Skin and flesh gone from their hands and arms, 
from their brows and cheeks! The working of 
their jaw-bones can be seen, as they vainly at- 
tempt to talk. 

Here they are — gums swollen, teeth gone, pal- 
ates fallen, one eye, or one ear missing. One 
finger — two fingers — may be all the fingers gone 
from one hand, or, perchance, the hand itself is off 
at the wrist, or the arm at the elbow. What arms 
and limbs and fingers they have, are frequently 
gnarled and twisted like grape-vines. They are 



300 THE NAAMAN HOSPITAL FOR THE LEPROSY. 

close enough. Rushing my right hand into my 
pocket, I strew the coin far and wide like seed 
wheat. The poor diseased creatures, with pewter 
plates in hand, hobble around here and there as 
best they can, pushing and shoving each other 
right and left, each trying to get all the coins and 
to keep his neighbor from getting any. 

Stepping forward, I strew out more coin and 
then recede. On come the victims of this loath- 
some disease. Oh, what a ghastly sight ! Flesh 
gone, bones exposed and all twisted out of shape, 
great knots protruding from the face and body, 
joints decaying and dropping away, — human be- 
ings coming unjointed and falling to pieces ! On 
they come, until I find myself half surrounded by 
hideous, dreamlike spectres! horrible hobgoblins! 
living corpses! walking skeletons! green-eyed 
monsters ! frery-eyed fiends ! coming up, crowding 
up around me, thrusting out their long arms and 
bony fingers, apparently eager and anxious to 
hug me, like a phantom, to their loathsome and 
rotting bosoms ! 

For the first time in life, I am rooted to the 
earth. My blood, like Hamlet's, is curdled in my 
veins. My knees, like the knees of Belshazzar, 
smite one against the other. My hair, like the 
quills of the fretted porcupine, stands on end. 
My mind wanders, my heart sickens, my body 
reels, and I stand "like a ruin among ruins, medi- 
tating on decay." In gesture, as well as in words, 
I say: "Avaunt! avaunt! and quit my sight! 



JlIK NAAMAN IK )Sl'I JAL K()R THE J,El'ROSV. 3OI 

Let the earth hide you! Your bones are marrow- 
less; your blood is cold; and ye have no eyes in 
those sightless sockets with which ye do glare 
at me ! 

I feel that I would give all that I have, or hope 
to have, if I could, once for all, blot this awful 
scene from my mind. But no; it is there. It is 
indelibly stamped upon the landscape of mem- 
ory. And often, instead of sleeping soundly, I 
will dream about it. I will dream that I am still 
in here; that the gate is locked and barred, and 
that I am a doomed man ; that these decaying 
folk have entirely surrounded me, and are inter- 
twining their arms and limbs with mine, almost 
like hissing serpents in the hair! 

O, my dying fellow mortal, do you know that 
leprosy is typical of sin? How, oh! how, would a 
man feel, if, while sitting in his parlor, ahalf dozen 
lepers should come in, reeling and staggering — 
falling to pieces? He would shrink back and call 
upon the earth to swallow him, or the mountains 
to fall upon and hide him from the face of nature. 

How, then, I ask, would God and the angels 
feel, if one unconverted soul should enter into 
Heaven, into the presence of that God who can 
not look upon sin. One sinner, walking the 
golden streets, falling to pieces with moral putre- 
faction, would cause the redeemed to shudder, the 
angels to flee away; at his approach, darkness 
would surround the throne and Heaven would be 
turned into hell, 



302 THK NA7S.MAN HOSPITAL FOR THE TEPROSY. 

But, O friend, my heart thrills with joy akin to 
that which the angels feel in Heaven, when I say: 

''There is a fountain filled with blood 
Drawn from Emmanuel's veins, 
And sinners, plunged beneath that flood. 
Lose all their guilty stains." 

So, when the gospel is proclaimed in your hear- 
ing, go not to the Jordan, as Naaman did; but go 
fling yourself into that stream opened up in the 
house of David for the cleansing of the human 
family. After Naaman had dipped in the river, 
his skin and flesh grew back as the skin and flesh 
of a little child. So you, when you have bathed 
yourself in the stream of God's forgiving mercy, 
will be clad in the spotless robes of Christ's right 
eousness. You will be sinless as a little child. 
And I am sure the angels will strike their golden 
harps, and the music will go ringing and reverber- 
ating adown the aisles of eternity, as they shout, 
"Halleluiah, halleluiah, one more sinner redeem- 
ed — washed in the blood of the Lamb." 



CHAPTER XXIX 

FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 



Sick, nigh unto Deatli — ' ' Night Bringeth out the Stars " — Mount Hermon and 
the Transfiguration — Beautiful Camp-Ground — Amnon, the Reliable — "Thou 
Art Peter" — Fountain of the Jordan^Slaughter of the Buffaloes — Crossing 
into Galilee — Dan — Abraham's Visit — A Fertile Valley — Wooden Plows — A 
Bedouin Village —Costumes of Eden — A Gory Field — Sea of Galilee — Sacred 
Memories — The Evening Hour — A Soliloquy — Bathing — Sailing — Fishing. 



I HAD not been feeling- well for some days and 
while at Damascus I was taken ill with vario- 
loid fever. This was just twelve days after I 
was directly exposed to the small-pox and th.e 
cholera. The varioloid, with which I was suffer- 
ing, was so severe that my friends really feared it 
would develop into small-pox proper. It was 
a dark hour for the sufferer. The shadows of 
twilight — the twilight of life, as well as of day, 
seemed to be ofatheriiiQ- around me. Even then 
Icould say: "I have lived, and have not lived in 
vain : my mind may lose its force, my blood its 
fire, and my frame perish even in conquering pain, 
but there is that within me which shall tirfe Tor- 
ture and Time, and breathe when I expire." 

One night when I was suffering most intensely, 
when my brow was all scorched with fever and 
my body racked with pain, Mr. Hamlin, whom I 
have already mentioned, and whose income is 
more than a dollar an hour, came into mv room 



304 FKOM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALIEEE. 

and lay down on the side of the bed. With his 
hand on my brow he said : " Whittle, we are fellow 
travelers for this journey through the Holy Land ; 
we are friends for the journey of life, and now that 
yoLi are ill, I want to say that you shall have my 
sympathy, my presence and my purse. I am your 
friend and helper. You may have cholera, small- 
pox, or what not, yet I will stand by you to the 
last. I shall not leave your bedside until you are 
well, or as long as you need a friend." I said to 
myself: "Truly, night bringeth out the stars," and 
"every cloud has a silver lining." I fell asleep; 
the fever cooled off, and in a few days "Richard 
was himself again.'' Now that it is over, I am 
glad that I was ill. It revealed to me the char- 
acter of the man with whom I am traveline. It is 
not an unpleasant thing, when one is ten or twelve 
thousand miles from home, to have a friend talk 
to him in that way. Hamlin is a whole-souled 
fellow. 

• The second nio-ht after leavincr Damascus the 
"Equestrian Pilgrims" camped at the foot of 
Mount Hermon, whose regal brow was crowned 
with purest snow. It was a glorious sight to see 
that lonely, lordly mountain, bathed in the golden 
splendor of the setting sun. One almost ceases 
to wonder that it has become an object of vigorous 
adoration. The word Hermon itself means "the 
holy," "the unapproachable," The Arab word for 
Hermon means "the old," "the o-rey-bearded," "the 



FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF CJALILEE, 3C5 

venerable." The inspired writers of old often 
refer to Hermon. It appears to have formed the 
northern boundaries of the children of Israel. 
Solomon speaks of Hermon as the haunt of wild 
beasts, and strangely enough my guide-book says, 
and the natives here confirm the statement, that 
bears, wolves and foxes still abound here. The 
Psalmist says brotherly love is as pleasant as the 
"dew of Hermon;" as the "dew that falleth on 
Mount Zion." I have been much impressed with 
heavv dews since coming into this Eastern coun- 
try. I have seen the dew falling before the sun 
goes down in the evening, and for an hour after 
the sun rises in the morning. In this country it 
rains six months, and is dry six months. During 
the dry season vegetation withers and all nature 
suffers for moisture. Every night the falling dew 
is like a gentle shower of rain, refreshing the 
parched grass and "reviving the vigor of vegeta- 
tion." But for these heavy dews nothing would 
grow, and the people could scarcely exist. How 
impressive it must have been to these people, 
therefore, when David said: "Brotherly love is as 
pleasant as the dew of Hermon, as the dew that 
falleth on Mount Zion." God hasten the day 
when "brotherly love shall abound:" when men 
shall say: "Behold how good and how pleasant it 
is for brethren to dwell together in unity." 

Hermon is, in round numbers, ten thousand 
feet high and twenty-nine miles long. Its base is 
rich, and, for this country, well cultivated. High- 



306 FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 

er up it supports several large almond groves, the 
fruit of which is most excellent. It is generally 
conceded by scholars that one of the slopes of 
Hermon was the scene of the Transfiguration. 
By some this honor was once claimed for Mount 
Tabor, but this idea has been exploded. It is 
impossible that Christ should have been Trans- 
figured on Mount Tabor, for Josephus tells us 
that Tabor was at that time crowned with a city, 
and we know that the Transfiguration occurred, 
not in the midst of human habitations, but out m 
the solitude of nature. The last time we see our 
blessed Lord before the Transfiguration was at 
Caesarea Philippi, near the base of Hermon. 
"And after six days Jesus taketh Peter, James, 
and John, his brother, and bringeth them up into 
a high mountain apart and was there transfigured 
before them; His face did shine as the sun and 
His garment was white as the light. And, behold, 
there appeared unto them Moses and Elias, talk- 
ing with Him. Then answered Peter and said 
unto Jesus: "Lord, it is good for us to be here: 
if thou wilt, let us make here three tabernacles — 
one for Thee, one for Moses, and one for Elias." 

We were high on the slopes of Hermon. It 
was to me a sacred place. When the evening 
hour came, I stole away from my companions. I 
went out all alone "where nought but the gleam- 
ing stars looked down upon me in silence," where 
I could commune with my own heart, with nature 
and "nature's God." I gave myself up to medita- 



FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 307 

tion and prayer. I said: "Can it be possible that 
I am now standing on, or near, the spot where the 
divinity of my Lord revealed itself; where He 
wrapped Himself with celestial glory as with a 
garment; where the veil was drawn aside, and 
Peter, James and John caught a glimpse of that 
other world and the splendor thereof. f*" and an 
unearthly feeling possessed me — I verily felt that 
I was standing on the Mount of spiritual Trans- 
figuration. For me the scene was re-enacted be- 
fore my eyes. To me the Master's face did shine 
as the sun, and His garment was white as light. 
I could almost hear the Father's voice as He 
said: "This is my beloved Son in whom I am 
pleased; hear ye Him." I felt like Peter that I 
could say, "It is good to be here;" I felt like 
Paul that I was caught up into the third heaven; 
I felt like Bunyan that I was standing on the top 
of the Delectable Mountains, viewing the City 
of God and listening to the music of angels. I 
felt like 

" Some tall cliff that lifts its awful form, 
Swells from the vale and midway leaves the storm, 
Around whose base, while rolling clouds are spread, 
Eternal sunshine settles on its head." 

We folded our tents in the morning, to pitch 
them at night twenty miles away, by the side of a 
flowing fountain, in the midst of an olive grove 
and amongst blooming oleanders. There was 
beauty, there was poetry, in this place. It was so 



3o8 FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 

sweetly calm and serenely beautiful, that we were 
Strongly tempted to "lengthen the cords and 
strengthen the stakes" of our tents and remain 
here a few days. But we were blessed with per- 
fect weather, and therefore thought best to press 
towards "that summer land of the vine and fig 
tree." 

Next morning "Amnon," the reliable, the sure- 
footed, was pronounced "ready." I vaulted into 
the saddle and rode away. Evening brought us 
to Caesarea Philippi, now called Banias. Little — 
practically nothing — remains of the stupendous 
temple that Herod the Great built here. The 
guide-book says, and the pilgrims believe, that 
this was the precise place where Christ said: 
"Thou art Peter, and upon this rock I will built 
my church.' But turning to Matt. 16:13, I read, 
"When Jesus came unto the coasts of Caesarea 
Philippi, He asked His Disciples," etc. 

Again, Mark 8:27, "And Jesus went out, and 
His disciples, into the towns of Caesarea Philippi, 
and by the way He asked His disciples saying: 
'Whom do men say that I am.'^'" From this we 
see that Caesarea Philippi was a district contain- 
ino- more towns than one. True, this was the 
principal city of the district, but no man has the 
moral right to select a certain town and say, 
" This is the place!' Nor do I care to know the 
precise spot. It is enough for me to know that 
Peter said: "Thou art the Christ." Jesus replied: 
"Thou art Petra (a rock), and upon this rock I 



FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 309 

will build my church, and the gates of hell shall 
not prevail against it." There is no passage in 
all the Bible that is so much discussed as this 
one, for this scripture is claimed as the foundation 
of the Romish Church. True, the "gates of hell" 
have not prevailed against "papal power," but the 
power of God^WX prevail against it, and the world 
shall yet know that Christ, and not Peter, is the 
chief "corner stone;" that Christ, and not Mary^ 
is the sinner's Savior. 

One hour from Banias brings us to the fountain 
of the Jordan — the birth place of the sacred river. 
The spring is large, the water deep and beautiful- 
ly clear. We could not resist the temptation; we 
had to bathe in the "fountain of the gods." We 
could count the pebbles in the bottom of the 
swiftly flowing stream. With our eyes we could 
follow its windings through the fertile valley, by 
noticing the flowers and green bushes fringing its 
banks. Near this fountain we rode close upon a 
herd of buffaloes before they saw us. There were 
twelve in the bunch and a dozen of them got 
away — we killed the others. 

We now cross into Galilee. High on the hill, 
and before us, as we face the west, is the city of 
Dan. O Dan, what a history thou hast had! 
What memories gather around thy ancient, thy 
venerable head! As thy name indicates, thou 
wast once a judge. Thy sons were born to posi- 
tions of honor. But Ichabod! — "thy glory has 
departed!" Thou art no longer a sightly city, but 



3IO FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 

a ruined and disheveled village. Thou no longer 
rulest, but art now thyself ruled with a rod of iron. 

" There is the moral of all human tales ; 
'lis but the same rehearsed of the past, 
First Freedom, and then glory — when that fails. 
Wealth, vice, corruption — barbarism at last ! " 

In olden times Dan was an important place — 
the most important city in north Galilee. We 
often see the expression, "from Dan to Beersheba," 
which means from the extreme north to the 
extreme south of Palestine, a distance of one 
hundred and sixty-five miles. " From Dan to 
Beersheba" meant to Jews of old just what "from 
Maine to Mexico" and "from New York to San 
Francisco" mems to Americans — the uttermost 
limits of the country. 

I give in the following lines an account of a 
nocturnal visit that Abraham, the father of the 
faithful, made to this city of Dan. "And when 
Abram heard that his brother was taken captive, 
he armed his trained servants, born in his own 
house, three hundred and eighteen, and he pursued 
them unto Dan. And he divided himself against 
them, he and his servants by night, and smote 
them, and pursued into Hobah, which is on the 
left hand of Damascus. And he brought back all 
the go6ds, and also his brother Lot and his goods, 
and the women also and the people." 

Coming into Galilee, we find ourseives at once 
in a beautiful valley lying between two mountain 



FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 3II 

ridges running north and south. The valley is 
apparently ten miles wide and fifteen to eighteen 
miles long. The soil is as black as a crow and 
fertile as the alluvial deposits of the Nile. It is 
so rich that it looks as if it would sprout a . 
shadow — I am afraid to stand still long in a place. 
Only small patches of this fertile valley are culti- 
vated and these in the most primitive and imper- 
fect manner. The land is scratched over with 
wooden plows, drawn, as I have sometimes seen, 
by a donkey and a skeleton of a milk cow yoked 
together, or by a camel and an ox harnessed side 
by side. Thus they tickle the soil which in turn 
smiles with a sickly, sentimental harvest, and the 
people live in filth, penury, and poverty; whereas, 
if they had western vim and push and shove and 
energy, if they had improved implements of agri- 
culture and would send them deep into the ground 
and turn up the soil, "the desert would blossom 
as the rose," and these trifling sons of want would 
soon have to "pull down their old barns and build 
greater ones." Peace and plenty would usurp the 
place now held by pinching poverty, and Jeru- 
salem once more would stand 

" Girt by her theatre of hills, and would reap 
Her corn, and wine, and oil ; and plenty would leap 
To laughing life, with her redundant horn." 

Here and there, scattered over the plain, we see 
a Bedouin village. Village did I say.f* Yes, a 
village; though there is not a log or a plank, or a 



312 FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 

board, or a shingle, or a stone to be seen. One 
of these villages consists 300 to 500 Bedouins, 
living in 75 to 100 tents huddled together without 
law or order. The Bedouins take the bark of the 
papyrus plant and plat or weave it (by hand of 
course) into a coarse, rough matting with which 
they make their houses. The same material ser- 
ves as roof, walls and floor. These sons of the 
desert hide their nakedness with robes made of 
camel's hair, and their children dress as did Adam 
or Eve before fig-leaf dresses came into fashion. 

In the southern part of the valley is Lake 
Huleh, or the waters of Merom. Some years ago 
the plain surrounding this lake was a bloody 
battle field. Six or eight kings "went out, they 
and all their hosts with them, much people, even 
as the sand that is upon the sea shore in multi- 
tude, with horses and chariots very many. And 
when all these kings were met together, they came 
and pitched their tents at the waters of Merom to 
fight against Israel. And the Lord said unto 
Joshua, be not afraid because of them; for to- 
morrow I will deliver them up all slain before 
Israel; thou shalt hough their horses and burn 
their chariots with fire. So Joshua came, and all 
the people of war with him, against them by the 
waters of Merom suddenly and they fell upon 
them. And the Lord delivered them into the 
hand of Israel." Lest some people should sup- 
pose that I witnessed that battle, I will state that 
Joshua lived some 1400 years before Christ. 



314 FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 

Long before night our tents were stretched on 
the shore of the Sea of GaHlee. This is the most 
hallowed spot to which we have yet come. No 
place we have visited is so fraught with holy 
memories. Arriving here, I dismounted, went 
into my tent, and there for the first time knelt 
down and kissed the earth. I knew it was a sa- 
cred place. Around this lake our Blessed Lord 
spent most of His public life. Every thing here 
wears a holy aspect; every thing is suggestive of 
the Savior. When I see the men in -their row 
boats, toiling at their nets, I am naturally remind- 
ed of the miraculous draught of fishes, of the 
worldly occupation of those whom Jesus, walking 
on these very shores, called to follow Him, saying.: 
"I will make you fishers of men." Probably the 
ancestors of these half-clad people before me were 
among the "multitude whom Jesus fed with a few 
loaves and fishes" on the opposite bank of the 
lake, or among that other multitide who thronged 
the beach where I now stand, and, pressing the 
water's edge, listened with bated breath to Christ 
as He spake from Simon's boat, built, no doubt, 
like these on the lake. 

Before me are the sites of three ancient cities 
whose very names have become a reproach; and 
who can wonder ! They rest under the direct curse 
of Him who said: "Woe unto thee, Chorazin! 
W^oe unto thee, Bethsaida! for I say unto you 
that in the day of judgment it shall be more toler- 
able for Tyre and Sidon than for you, Chorazin 



FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 315 

and Bethsaida! — and thou, Capernaum, which art 
exalted unto Heaven, shalt be brought down to 
hell." Yea, truly; Capernaum, the home of Christ, 
has been cast down to hell. The city rejected 
Christ and ever since that time the curse of God 
has rested upon it. A word to the wise is suffici- 
ent, I will therefore only add; reader, be sure 
you do not reject Him of whom Moses and the 
prophets did write. 

Standing on the western edge of the lake, near 
the northern end, and looking in a north-westerly 
direction, I see, about 300 yards away, a man 
plowing with a wooden plow, drawn by a milk cow 
and a donkey. In the same field, and close by 
the plowman, is another man with a basket on his 
arm full of seed corn (wheat) which he is strewing 
broadcast over the orround. This reminds me 

<_> 

that once upon a time our Lord was standing on 
these shores, near where I now am. A great 
multitude of people had assembled to listen to 
His gracious words. The press was so great that 
our Lord stepped into a little boat and pushed it 
out a little way on the water. As the people 
stood on the shore Christ sat in the boat and 
preached to them. He began His sermon, "The 
sower went forth to sow. Some seed fell by the 
wayside, some among thorns and some in the 
rocks." This scene was being re-enacted before 
my own eyes. How delightful are such experi- 
ences! How it carries one back to ancient days! 
This lake furnished the subject for the parable of 



3l6 FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 

the net. And on the left are the hills and fields 
whence was drawn the comparison to the leaven, 
the hidden treasure, the pearl of great price. 
Around this lake the lilies o-rew and the ravens 
fed, which the Lord bade us remember. 

Galilee is a beautiful lake. It is ten to twelve 
miles longr and six to eiofhi miles wide. The 
rocky walls surrounding the lake rise, in some 
places, several hundred feet above its surface. 
Most of the country around is rough and barren. 
A few fig and other fruit and shade trees grow 
near the water's edo-e. 

But if you would see the beauty — the poetry of 
Galilee, wait until the glare of day has mellowed 
into twilight; wait until a holy calm broods over. 
the lake and Its surface has been transformed 
into a silver mirror. Then the great stars above 
you gleam like nuggets of gold in the blue depths 
below. Now go "silently and alone" and walk on 
the beach. You find that distance is annihilated. 
The lake may be six, sixty, or six hundred miles 
wide — you can not tell — you do not care. You 
are not thinking of time or distance, either. The 
beauty of the scene rivets your attention. Sacred 
memories crowd upon the mind, and you can but 
say: "Oh! Galilee! Galilee! For thousands of 
years have thy pure waters been surging against 
these historic shores — these sacred shores. Upon 
thy watery surface Jesus did walk, as though it 
had been marble pavement. When the storm did 
come and thou wert lashed into rage and fury, 



FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 317 

when thy waves were tossed Hke mountains to 
the sky; when the frail bark was threatened, and 
human Hfe endangered; the Son of God whisper- 
ed: 'Peace, be still.' The winds obeyed Him and 
thy waves, O Galilee, crouched at His feet. For 
these reasons thou hast become a holy — a sacred 
sea. 

"And now I, even I, a humble disciple of that 
same Jesus, am permitted to walk on thy shores 
and sail on thy waters." 

Being unable to break the chain of fascination 
which binds us to this place, we have remained 
here several days. Swimming in Galilee is truly 
delip-htful. We have had several messes of fish 
from the lake, but as yet we have caught no fish 
with a "silver coin in his mouth." 

Tiberias the only place of importance on the 
lake, we find to be a walled city of some 5,000 souls, 
the most of whom are Jews. We find much in the 
city to attract our attention, but nothing to excite 
admiration. The Jews living here are a reproach 
to their race. They are as sorry looking speci- 
mens of humanity as one can reasonably expect 
to hnd this side of the grave. They are as filthy 
as monkeys, ugly as gorillas and as poor as Job's 
turkey. Extravagant expressions are usually out 
of place, but I am honestly of the opinion that 
these people are as poor as a church mouse or a 
Baptist preacher. 

Most of our time here has been spent, nor in 
Tiberias, but in visiting the mouth of Jordan and 



3l8 FROM DAMASCUS TO THE SEA OF GALILEE. 

some ruined cities around the lake, in sailing, 
swimming and fishing, in reading the Bible and 
talking of Christ, its central figure. 



CHAPTER XXX. 

FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 



A Seven Hours Journey — A Rough Road and a Hot Sun — Gazelles — Nimrods of 
Today — Historic Corn-Field — Cana of Galilee — First Miracle — Cana at Pre- 
sent — Greek and Roman Convents — Conflicting Stories of Greek and Latin 
Priests — Explanation — An Important Fact — Marriage Divinely Instituted — 
Woman Degraded — Woman Honored — Description of Nazareth — Childhood 
Home of Jesus — Jesus and the Flower-Gatden — Studying Nature — He Goe^ 
to the Mountain Top — Without Bounds or Limits — A Fit Play-Ground and 
Suitable School-Room for the Royal Child — Rock Bluff where the People 
Tried to "Cast him down Headlong"' — The Carpenter Shop — The Virgin'^ 
Fountain — Nazareth at Present — Protestant Missions — A Short Sermon and 
a Sweet Song. 

FROM Tiberias to Nazareth is a seven hours' 
journey. Our way lies across a rocky, hilly 
country. The sun is hot. The heat seems 
to have positive weight. Icarus would not have 
had to soar very high beneath this fierce sun, 
before his "waxen wings" would have "melted" 
and let him down with a crash. The reflection 
from the rocks is almost like the hot breath of a 
furnace. 

Look! yonder to the right, and not far away, 
are eight or ten gazelles dashing down the steep 
hillside. Their tongues are lolling out; they have 
been up on the elevated table-lands, and now, dry, 
hot, and thirsty, they are making their way to the 
Sea of Galilee. How swift they go ! And yet 
Asahel, we are told, was " as light of foot as a wild 
gazelle." The men of Gad, who swam the swollen 



320 FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 

river to join King- David, had the "faces of lions'^ 
and the "feet of gazelles." Isaiah, when speaking 
of the beauty of Babylon, could bestow no higher 
praise than to say : " She is as the gazelle of 
kingdoms." Solomon says: "My beloved is as 
beautiful as a gazelle leaping up the mountains, 
skipping upon the hills." To see this swift-footed 
animal, going with parched lips to the sea, reminds 
one of the Psalmist's earnest words: "As the 
hart (the gazelle) panteth after the water brooks, 
so panteth my soul after thee, O God. My soul 
thirsteth for God, for the living God." 

The Arab word " orazelle " is not used in the 
Bible, yet it is generally understood that the 
"roebuck" of Scripture is the same animal. They 
are plentiful here, and may be found in all sparsely' 
settled sections of the country. South of Hebron 
they are sometimes seen in droves of from fifty to 
a hundred. They are not so large, but are other- 
wise very much like our American deer. Their 
flesh, like the antelope and venison of America, is 
considered delicious, and the Nimrods of to-day 
are constantly on their track. The gazelle, how- 
ever, having a swift foot and a keen eye, is seldom 
hung up before an Arab's fire. 

We are now upon what is thought to be the 
corn-field referred to in Matthew 12:1. "And at 
that time Jesus went on the Sabbath day through 
the corn, and His disciples, who were an hungered, 
began to pluck the ears of corn and to eat." The 
field is still worked and it will soon be seed-time 




PALMS I\ Bl qjj rORM. 



322 FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 

again. The corn referred to was of course wheat, 
as our Indian corn was not then, and is not now, 
knovvn to Eastern pepole. 

After five hours and a half in this scorching 
sun, we are thoroughly prepared to appreciate the 
grateful shade of the great olive and palm trees 
under which we are now resting. We are in 
Cana, of Galilee, whose history is sacred and 
whose name is familiar to all Bible readers. Yes, 
here on this rough, rocky hillside, is Kefr Ken- 
na — the village of Cana — where Jesus made wine 
of water. Few passages of Scripture impress me 
more than the account of this wedding feast. I 
read, "And the third day there was a marriage in 
Cana, of Galilee, and the mother of Jesus was 
there, and both Jesus and His disciples were call- 
ed to the marriage." It was during this wedding 
feast that Christ turned water into wine. "This 
beginning of miracles did Jesus in Cana, of Gali- 
lee, and manifested forth His glory, and His dis- 
ciples believed on Him." Christ's first miracle, 
wrought at the beginning of His public career, 
was, we see. turning water into wine. And the 
night before His crucifixion. He took wine and 
said: "This is my blood," and "without the shed- 
dinor of blood there is no remission." I see 
a significance, therefore, in the fact that the first 
miracle was making wine. That miracle was 
prophetic. It pointed to something yet to come. 
That miracle was, in Christ's thought, closely 
connected with the Cross and Man's Redemption. 



FROM THE SEA OF GALILEETO NAZARETH. 323 

Havinor finished the account of the wedding- 
feast, the evangelist continues: "After this He 
went down to Capernaum (about five hours' 
v/alk) ; He, and His mother and His brethren and 
His disciples." Jesus had already taken up His 
abode in Capernaum. Probably Mary had never 
been there. It is quite probable, also, that Christ 
had not seen her for some time. It may be that 
the hope of meeting her son was the main thing 
that induced her to attend the weddinor. Her 
hope was realized. What a joyful meeting that 
must have been! Somehow I love my Savior 
more, because He loved His Mother so well. 
How beautiful this is: after the wedding is over 
Jesus goes back to Capernaum, takijig His Mother 
zvith Hifn. She wanted- to see how her "preacher- 
boy" was situated in His new home by the sea. 
No doubt when they reached Capernaum, gft the 
north end of the Sea of Galilee, Jesus took His 
Mother up on the flat-roofed house and pointed 
out different places of interest. 

At present, Cana is of little importance and is 
not at all inviting. Large beds of tall, thorny 
cactus plants are everywhere to be seen. The 
houses of the village are few in number, and rude 
of structure. Here, as elsewhere in this country, 
the people are filthy, ignorant and half naked. 
The two best houses in the place are convents;, 
one belonging to the Roman and the other to the 
Greek Catholics. We now visit these convents 
in the order named. Clad in a black crown, with 



324 FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 

a rosary fastened around his waist and hanging 
from his side, the Latin Priest approaches us, 
invites us in, and kindly shows us through his 
convent. He rehearses the history of Cana, and 
speaks of the wedding that Jesus attended as 
though it had taken place only yesterday. We 
come now to the sacred chamber; the Priest 
pauses; he is deeply moved (?). With tears in 
his eyes and pathos in his words he says: "In this 
room the marriage occurred. Just there, 'point- 
ing to the side of the room opposite him,' just 
there the wedding couple stood. Christ, Mary, 
and John stood here on my right, while the other 
guests occupied the portion of the room to my 
left. Just here, where I am, stood the Catholic 
priest who pronounced the wedding ceremony. 
Here, gentlemen," the good priest continued, "here 
are some of the identical water pots that our 
Lord used in making wine. Yes, sirs, these are 
the veritable water-pots that Jesus used. Come 
up here and handle them and see for yourselves." 
We express no doubt and I suppose we really 
appear somewhat credulous. The superstitious 
priest now becomes enthusiastic. "There were," 
he says, "originally six of these jars or pots; but 
one was broken, one we sent to Jerusalem, one to 
Rome, and here are the other three. Come, come, 
and handle them yourselves that you may tell 
your friends when you get home." 

As soon as we get out of the door, Johnson, 
with his characteristic sense of humor, touched 



FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 



325 



me in the side and said : " Chestnuts ! Chestnuts ! ! " 
At this moment a short, heavy-built, broad-shoul- 
dered, bushy-headed Greek monk, wearing a hat 
whose broad, board-like brim was at the top of 
the crown instead of the bottom, comes up to us, 




PKIEST OF THE GREEK CHURCH. 



He introduces himself, and after a few words says-. 
"Now, gentlemen, please come with me. I have 
something of very great interest to show you." 
He leads us into, and conducts us through, the 
Greek convent, reciting and explaining the history 
of the village as we go along. He shows us into 
a large room whose walls are lined with pictures. 



326 FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 

The Greek pauses, uncovers his head, strikes an 
attitude; sorrow seizes his soul, a heavenly look 
settles on his troubled face. With noiseless step 
and slow, he approaches us and whispers: "The 
weddinor that we read about in the Bible occurred 
in this very room. Yes, g-entlemen, this is a 
sacred place — this is where the marriage was sol- 
emnized. Christ, with His Mother and disciples, 
stood on the left, the other guests on the right. 
The wedding couple stood there in the centre, 
and the Greek priest who married them stood 
here." Johnson is dumb as an oyster. But I 
have to speak — I can hold in no longer. I say: 
"Did Jesus attend two weddings in this place.?" 
"No, sir; only one, sir, only one!" "Well," I 
continue, " I was a few minutes aeo in the Latin 
convent and the Romish priest told me that the 
wedding took place there, and now you tell me 
that it occurred here. How about that, sir; how 
can you explain this.'^" "The explanation, the 
explanation, sir, is very easy. It is simply this: 
the other priest lied ! Yes, sir, he lied — only one 
wedding here, and' that one took place in this 
room. And here are the identical water-pots that 
He used — these are the very jars that held the 
water which was turned into wine." 
- I speak of this at length to bring out an im- 
portant fact. On almost every sacred spot in 
Palastine, wherever Jesus lived or spent the night, 
wherever He preached a sermon, or wrought a 
miracle, there we find two convents — one Roman 



FKOM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 32/ 

and one Greek, Each claims to stand upon the 
exact spot where such and such a thing occurred. 
Occasionally the two convents are some distance 
apart ; again they stand hard by each other. As 
one might naturally suppose, this engenders strife, 
and provokes jealousy among the priests, and 
greatly perplexes most travelers. But all this 
confusion among the priests does not trouble me 
for a moment. What do I care whether the mar- 
riage occurred here or there? I know full well 
that I am in Cana. I know it is a sacred place. 
I know that Christ, with His presence, sanctioned 
in Cana what God, in His wisdom, instituted in 
Eden — the marriage relation, which has come 
along down the ages, elevating man, purifying 
society, strengthening the State and honoring 
God. The wisdom of this law strongly argues 
its divine origin, I have traveled in many coun- 
tries, among many nations, kindreds, tribes and 
peoples ; and I have never yet traveled in a 
country where the Bible was a sealed book, where 
God's law of marriaofs was unknown or disregard- 
ed, but that the women of that country were in a 
low, vile, degraded and servile condition! In such 
places women is regarded as man's inferior ; she 
is neglected, imposed upon and down-trodden ; 
here is a life of shame and drudgery ; she is man's 
burden-bearer and nothing more! In Palestine, 
and some other countries where I have traveled, 
it is considered a disgrace for a mother to give 



328 FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 

birth to a female child ! and for this cause men 
frequently ill-treat and forsake their wives! 

And on the other hand, I have never been in 
any land where the Bible was known and read, 
where God was worshipped, and His law obeyed, 
but that woman was loved and honored and ele- 
vated to her true position in the family and in 
society. The Bible teaches that woman was 
taken, not from man's heel that he might trample 
upon her, not from his head that she might rule 
him with a rod of iron, but from his side that 
she mieht walk beside him — that she mio-ht be his 
companion; perchance from his right side, that 
his strong right arm might lift her burdens and 
fight her battles ; or, forsooth, from his left side, 
near his heart, that he might love and sympathize 
with her. Blessed Bible ! thou hast shattered 
woman's shackles ; thou hast brought the aureole 
of glory, and placed it upon woman's matronly 
brow ! 

One hour from Cana brings us to a scene of 
greater interest. The day is far spent when my 
eyes fall for the first time upon Nazareth, nestling 
on the sunny slope of a high hill which gracefully 
swinofs itself around and forms somethino- of a 
horse-shoe. The city, situated near the centre of 
this curvature, is build partly in the valley and 
partly on the hillside. The lower part of the city 
is half hidden amid a rich profusion of pome- 
granates, orange trees, olive groves and vineyards. 
"Jack Frost" has brought no tidings of autumn; 



consequently the leaves are still green and the 
luscious fruits are still hanging upon the boughs 
of the trees. 

Leaving the hilltop we come down into the 
valley, and pitch our tents under some large 
orange trees on the edge of the city. Oh, what a 
privilege it is to be here! Nazareth is a holy city. 
It was the childhood home of the Savior. Here 
is where Luke says "He was brought up." Again, 
"And when they had performed all things accord- 
ing to the law of the Lord, they returned unto 
Galilee, to their own city, Nazareth. And the 
child grew, and waxed strong in spirit, filled with 
wisdom, and the grace of God was upon him, 
"And He went down with them and came to 
Nazareth, and was subject unto them; but His 
mother kept all these sayings in her heart. And 
Jesus increased in wisdom and stature and in 
favor with God and man." Dutiful child ! Model 
son ! A mother would naturally keep such a boy, 
as well as his "sayings, in her heart." No doubt 
He, in childish glee often played with other chil- 
dren, only He never lost His temper. He never 
got angry and called His playmates hard and ugly 
names. He was always kind and gentle ; conse- 
quently all His acquaintances and fellow play- 
mates liked Him, and the more they saw of Him 
the more they loved Him; for we are told "He 
grew in favor with God and man." We are only 
human; and yet, with God's help, it is possible for 
us so to conduct ourselves that we, like Jesus, 



,|ii;iiii!i's,i,;:i 




FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 33 I 

may grow in wisdom and in favor with God 
and man. 

Yes, Nazareth was the home of Christ. Here 
He played, here He worked, here He studied Na- 
ture in all its loveliness and manifold beauty. 
One who visits Nazareth can well imagine that in 
spring-time Jesus would pluck the rose-buds and 
orange blossoms, and weave them into bouquets 
for His mother. We know He loved flowers. He 
was so fond of them that the betrayer knew where 
to find Him at the evening hour. It was he who 
said: " Consider the lilies of the field; they toil 
not, neither do they spin : and yet I say unto you 
that Solomon, in all his glory, was not arrayed 
like one of these." 

Knowing as we do His fondness for solitude, 
nothing is more natural than to suppose that the 
youthful Christ would often forsake the busy 
scenes of street-life and climb to the top of the 
hill back of the city. In the valley He had studied 
nature and human nature; on the mountain He 
could stud)' God and revelation. From here His 
view of the country was something like the cate- 
chism definition of infinitude — "without bounds or 
limits." Here, seated on a rock, leaninof ao-ainst 
an olive tree, with the old Hebrew Bible unrolled 
on His lap. He could read and think and plan to 
His heart's content. Here He could read about 
almost any event, whatsoever, and at once lift His 
eyes from the parchment and let them fall upon 
the spot where the scene took place. Did He 



332 FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 

read of the fish swallowing Jonah, He could look 
out upon the heaving bosom of the Mediter- 
ranean, flecked with white-winged ships, some of 
them no doubt bound for Tarshish. Did He 
read about Elijah praying for rain, there was 
Mt. Carmel projecting into the sea and standing 
out in such bold relief that one could almost see 
a man standing on its summit. Did He read 
from the parchment of Elijah's contest with the 
priests of Baal, He could look there at the base of 
Carmel where the altars were built. Looking to 
the north, He coald see Mt. Hermon where a few 
years later He was to be transfigured, and was to 
meet Moses and Elias from the other world. In 
the same direction was the hill where He was to 
preach a sermon to a great multitude; there, also, 
and not far away, was Cana where His first 
miracle was to be wrought. Eastward, He could 
see around the Sea of Galilee, where He was to 
make His future home, and where He was to do 
"most of His mighty works." With His face still 
to the east, He could see Mt. Tabor, six miles 
distant, rising up like a sugar-loaf to the height of 
two thousand two hundred feet. Seeing this. He 
would naturally read of Deborah and Barak with 
an army of ten thousand men on Tabor while 
Sisera, with an armed host including nine hundred 
chariots of war, stood at the base of the mountain. 
Just south of Nazareth is the broad and fertile 
plain of Esdraelon, which has been the "battle- 
ground of the nations." From the hilltop behind 



Nazareth, Christ could see, flowing- through the 
midst of this plain, the river Kishon, whose swift 
and swollen current swept so many of Sisera's 
men on to the "Great Sea" and to death. Be- 
yond this plain He could see Nain where He, in 
after life, was to raise the widow's son. Near 
Nain is Endor, where Saul called up the witch 
by night. There, also, are the heights of Gilboa, 
where the same King breathed his last. There, 
too, is Shunem, where Elisha often spent the night; 
and Jezreel, where Jezebel, the wicked Queen, was 
flung from the upper window of the palace, and 
dashed to death upon the stone pavement below. 

I am standing upon this same hilltop with an 
open Bible in my hand. As I read of these differ- 
ent incidents, and then look from place to place 
where the different scenes occurred, I am deeply 
moved. These several passages seem to sink into 
my heart. I am not surprised that Jesus knew 
the Scriptures so perfectly. This was the best 
place in all the world for Him to have been 
brought up. Surely these valleys were spread 
out, and these hills lifted up to form a fit play- 
ground and a suitable school-room for the Royal 
Child. 

It was from a high bluff, on this mountain also, 
that the heartless populace, who rejected Christ's 
teaching, tried to "cast Him down headlong. But 
He, passing through the midst of them, went His 
way." To be thrown from this cliff, one would 



334 t'KOM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 

fall a hundred and twenty or thirty feet before 
striking the jagged rocks below. 

Tradition still points out the place where Jos- 
eph and Mary lived. It is a plain, simple grotto, 
hewn in the side of the hill near the city. Joseph's 
carpenter-shop is also shown, and some work is 
still done in that shop. Of course one is to use 
his own judgment as to how much or how little of 
these traditions he will believe. The spring, the 
only water supply of the town, is called "Mary's 
Fountain," "The Virgin's Fountain" and "The 
Fountain of the Queen." During all hours of the 
day, and far into the night, one sees scores and 
scores of women and children, with their jugs and 
goat-skins, crowding around the spring for water. 

It is a great privilege to be here and see these 
things that were once so familiar to the Savior; 
to mingle and talk with these people who live and 
dress and think now, just as their ancestors did in 
the time of Christ. Of course they crowded 
around this fountain then just as they do to-day, 
and no doubt He often came with His mother to 
this same spring for water. Being here and. seeing 
these thincrs is almost like beingf introduced into 
the family circle, and becoming acquainted with 
the home life of Jesus. 

At present Nazareth has io,cxdo or 12,000 in- 
habitants. The houses, with a few exceptions, are 
small, ancient and forbidding in appearance. The 
narrow streets are crooked, and filthy in the ex- 
treme, The people have little or nothing to 



FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 335 

recommend them to the traveler. When one 
views this aspect of the city, one' is naturally re- 
minded of Nathaniel's question: "Can any good 
thing come out of Nazareth?" 

The English and Presbyterian churches have 
missions here. The former is in a flourishing con- 
dition, but the latter is at a stand-still because of 
some trouble with the Turkish government. The 
English have an Orphans' Home here in which 
they feed, clothe, and educate one hundred orphan 
girls — as some go out others come in. Some of 
these girls are almost grown, and many of them 
are bright and beautiful. I have just had the 
sweet privilege of preaching to them. Oh, how it 
stirs one's heart to stand here in Nazareth and 
preach ! to stand here where Jesus was brought 
tip, and preach His gospel to His people — the 
Jews! After preaching I sang several songs for 
the people. In turn, the orphan girls in a sweet 
tone of voice sang; for me a beautiful sone which 
touched me deeply, and which I have translated, 
that the reader may also enjoy it. 

"We are little Nazareth children, 
And our Father placed our home 
'Mid the olive trees and vineyards 
Of His earthly childhood home. 

" For the Lord who loves the children, 
And was glad to hear their praise. 
Cares that Nazareth children know Him, 
Do His will and choose His ways. 



^,^6 FROM THE SEA OF GALILEE TO NAZARETH. 

" Cares that they should keep in memory 
All that sacred life spent here ; 
Try in heart to walk beside Him, 
Safe and happy in His fear. 

"And we know that He is coming — 
Every knee to HiiTi shall bow — 
And the joyous shouts to meet Him 
Shall begin in Nazareth now. 

"Jesus, Savior, dwell within us, 
Make a temple of each heart. 
Pure and loving, true and holy, 
For thy service set apart." 



CHAPTER XXXI. 

A CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN THE ORIENT. 



Shepherd Tents— Many Flocks in One Sheep-Cote for the Night— Many Merchants 
from Different Countries— Ships Anchored— Arabs at Meal — Arabs Smoking 
— Shepherds with their Reed-Pipes— Merchants' Response— Music and Dan- 
cing at Night— Bustle and Confusion in the Morning— Fight Like Madmen— 
Over-Burdened Camels— Camp Broken up— Dothan and Joseph's Pit— Money- 
Loving Mohammedans— Crafty Jews — Return to Tents— The Shepherds 
Awaken— Crook, Sling and Reed-Pipe— David and Goliath— Shepherds un- 
der the Star-Lit Sky—" Glory to God in the Highest." 



nOTHING could present a scene more charac- 
teristic of Oriental life than a half dozen 
shepherd tents, black and dingy, pitched, 
not like Jacob's tent on the mountain top, but 
like Isaac's tent in the valley, in the midst of an 
olive grove, by the side of a flowing fountain. 
Here by the tents is a corral, or sheep-cote, en- 
closed by a rock wall, on top of which is a rough 
hedge of dry, thorny bushes, placed there to keep 
the robbers, as well as the jackals and wolves and 
other wild beasts, from molesting the sheep. 

Many flocks, both of sheep and goats, are 
brouo-ht to this one cote for protection during the 
night, and the swarthy shepherds, each with a 
loose garment of course camel's hair carelessly 
thrown around him to hide his nakedness, occupy 
the tents in common. 

Just across the ravine, on the opposite hillside, 
is a rouo-h stone house eight or ten feet high with 




INTERIOR OF A CARAVANSARY 



A CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN THE ORIENT. 339 

a low, flat roof. This is a "Kahn," or an inn — a 
kind of lodging house to accommodate caravans 
which are always passing between Egypt, Jeru- 
salem, Damascus, Palmyra and Bagdad. 

From an hour before the sun goes down, until 
eight o'clock at night, one can see caravan after 
caravan of camels — sometimes a string of them a 
half mile long — coming across the hills, laden 
with wines, carpets, dried fruits, hand-made silks, 
Persian carpets, and all manner of Oriental mer- 
chandise. Slowly, but patiently, these "ships of 
the desert" move on beneath their immense cargo 
of freight. -One caravan after another comes in, 
until from lOO to 200 camels may be seen around 
one Kahn. The burdens are removed, the several 
merchants putting their goods in separate piles. 
The ships are anchored. The tired brutes lie 
down and are fed. The merchants and camel- 
drivers gather round the fire, seating themselves 
on the ground, folding their limbs up under them 
as though they had no bones in them. 

Beans, peas, dates, olives, mutton or kid — and 
sometimes both — are put into one pot and all 
boiled together. When it is done, as many of 
these hard-featured, grim-visaged, wrinkled-brow- 
ed, shaggy-haired Arabs as can, huddle around 
one bowl. They have no knives or forks. Some- 
times you see a wooden spoon, but usually they 
thrust their horny hands into the bowl, and then 
cram their fists into their countenances — they are 
the most open-countenanced people I ever saw. 



340 A CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN THE ORIENT. 

They are the most ravenous eaters I ever saw. 
My dragoman offered to bet ten dollars that one 
Arab could drink a quart of coffee, eat a roast 
turkey, two loaves of bread, and three pounds of 
rice at one meal! And I am quite sure that one 
who is acquainted with an Arab's capacity for 
stuffinof will never make a waofer like that. 

The meal being over, a certain weed, used as 
tobacco, is brought out and smoking is indulged 
in. Now the shepherds across the branch, with 
their reed pipes strike up a plaintive tune which 
floats over the valley and echoes from the distant 
hills. It strikes also a responsive chord in the 
hearts of the merchants and camel-drivers. They 
now bring- out their rude instruments of music, 
and play and sing, chant and dance, for hours, 
much after the order of wild Indians. In their 
ideas of dress and propriety, in their customs and 
habits of life generally, these children of the desert 
are as primitive, as rude and uncultivated, as were 
their fathers 4000 years ago. 

When they wake in the morning there is great 
stir, bustle and confusion. As the merchants 
curse the camel-drivers, they in turn curse and 
fiorht each other, and beat the camels. From the 
noise made one would think that two ofreat armies 
had met in deadly combat. They slap and beat 
and kick each other around like madmen — I had 
almost said "like fiends!" They sometimes put 
as much on one camel as two or three ought to 
carry. The poor, faithful brutes can not speak 










J'ffcfc}^ 



I. tc. 



\V 




DANCING GIRL. 



34X 



342 A CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN THE ORIENT. 

audibly, but as these double burdens are placed 
upon them, they lie on the ground and bellow in 
a most pathetic manner. The pitiable cries of 
the dumb brutes are almost enough to move the 
surrounding stones to tears, and yet the heartless 
Arab is untouched. The more the camels bellow, 
the more their masters beat them with sticks, and 
prick them with sharp spears. Finally the ships 
are loaded, and soon you see them strung out 
across the hills, some going south to Egypt, others 
going north to Damascus and Beyrout, or east to 
Palmyra and Bagdad. 

As often as one sees a night like this, and es- 
pecially .when one sees it near Dothan (the city 
of two wells), he thinks of the time when Jacob's 
sons stripped Joseph of his coat of many colors, 
and cast him into the dry pit. And while yet on 
the plain of Dothan "they lifted up their eyes and 
beheld a company of Ishmaelites, with camels, 
going down to Egypt. Then there passed by 
Midianites, merchant-men, and they drew and 
lifted Joseph out of the pit, and sold him to the 
Ishmaelites for twenty pieces of silver, and they 
brought Joseph into Egypt." Around me now are 
many money-loving Mohammedans, many cun- 
ning and crafty Jews, who, I think, would willingly 
sell their younger brothers for twenty pieces of 
silver, or ten pieces either. Yea, I have seen men 
in this country, and in my own country, too, who 
would gladly sell their souls for money. As in 




THE SNAKE CHARMER. 



343 



344 A CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN THE ORIENT. 

Joseph's day, so in ours, "the love of money Is 
the root of all evil." . 

Let us now return to the camp where the mer- 
chant-men spent the night. I spoke of the shep- 
herds, of their tents and flocks. The herds, both 
sheep and goats, of different shepherds have been 
housed during- the nieht in the same fold. At 
dawn of day the shepherds awake, and, unlike the 




AN ANCIENT SHEEP FOLD. 



thief and robber who climb up over the wall, they 
enter in by the door. Each shepherd putteth 
forth his own flock, counting them as they pass 
slowly out under his rod through the one door- 
way. As they pass out, the sheep and the goats 
are separated — the one being turned to the right 
hand, the other to the left. "Each shepherd call- 
eth his sheep by name and leadeth them out. He 
goeth before them and his sheep follow him, for 
they know his voice." The sheep string one 



A CHARACTERISTIC SCENE IN THE ORIENT. 34^ 

behind another, and as the shepherd, with his 
sling and leathern pouch filled with stones strap- 
ped about his shoulders, with a crook in one hand 
and a reecl pipe in the other, leads his trusting 
flock out into the "green pastures and beside the 
still waters," he makes the welkin rine with his 
simple, artless melodies. Who could behold a 
scene like this without thinkine of that robust 
shepherd lad who killed Goliath with his sling, 
and charmed Saul with his music? Yes, it was 
among the sheep, here on these purple hills of 
Judea, that David, the sweet singer of Israel, first 
learned those Hebrew melodies that have been 
sung around the world! 

I have several times, on beautiful moon-lieht 
nights, seen shepherds out in the fields with their 
flocks under the star-lit sky. It must have been 
at a time like this that with up-turned face David 
said: "When I consider thy heavens, the work of 
thy fingers; the moon and the stars, which thou 
hast ordained; what is man that thou art mindful 
of him? and the son of man that thou visitest 
him?" 

How forcibly does this remind one of the time 
when the angelic host undulated above the plains 
of Bethlehem crying: "Glory to God in the high- 
est; on earth, peace and good will to men." This 
has been a different world ever since that song 
fell upon the drowsy ear of night. 



CHAPTER XXXII. 

FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 



A^ Man ' ' Fell among Thieves " — The Way still Lined with Thieves — Guards 
* Necessary — Across the Mount of Olives — Bethany and its Memories — David's 
Flig-ht from Jerusalem — "Halt! Halt!'' — Seized with Terror — Splendid 
Horsemanship — " A Hard Road to Trabble '' — Inn where the Good Samaritan 
Left the Jew — Brig-ands on the Way -side — Robbers and Guards in Collusion — 
Topography of the Country — Dangers and Difficulties — Perilous Places Pass- 
ed — Plain of Jericho — Writhing in Agony — The C ity of Palms — Trumps of 
Joshua — Jericho in the Time cf Herod — Iron-Fingered Fate — Jericho at 
Present — A Divine Region — Pool of Moses — Antony and Cleopatra. 



1READ in my Bible that a certain man went 
down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and fell 
among" thieves. When this announcement 
was made, I am sure that every ear was all at- 
tention, for the people naturally expected some, 
startling revelation to follow. And why? Because 
the way was then, and is now, lined with, thieves, 
insomuch that it would be impossible, to-day for 
any Frank (Arabs call white men Franks) to go 
unprotected from Jerusalem to Jericho without 
fallino- amone thieves. This danger is recoofnized 
to such an extent that the government (the Turk- 
ish government of course) keeps a garrison of 
Turkish soldiers in Jerusalem, whose sole business 
is to conduct tourists to Jericho, to the Jordan, 
and over into Arabia, And the tourist is com- 
pelled to employ these government guards. Oh 
well, you are not legally bound, but if you go on 
this trip without these extra guards, and are killed 
on the way, you are not allowed to sue the govern- 



FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 347 

ment. But if you take the guards, and are killed, 
after you are buried you may sue the government 
twice, if you like. I am not easily frightened, 
myself, but I took the guards on Johnson's ac- 
count, for I saw plainly he did not want to die 
here. I honestly believe that it would almost kill 
Johnson to die anywhere ! So with four govern- 
ment guards, all well-equipped with broad-swords, 
bowie-knives, and javelins, and all splendidly 
mounted, we start off for an Eastern trip. 

As we cross the Mount of Olives, a sacred feel- 
ing comes over us, for we know that every foot of 
this road was once familiar to our Divine Lord. 
It.was here He prayed in the garden. It was here 
He was betrayed with a kiss. It was on this" 
Mountain He cursed the fruitless fig-tree. It was 
from here, also, that He beheld and wept over the 
sinful city. Passing over the brow of Olivet, we 
come, on its eastern slope, to that sweet little 
village where Jesus often spent the night. Here 
He wept with the sisters who wept, and raised the 
brother who was dead. Ah ! blessed house-hold 
was that where Mary and Martha and Lazarus 
lived. Blessed house-hold is that to-day, whose 
spiritual atmosphere is attractive to the Son of 
God. Oh, what a joyous time there must have 
been with those two sisters and their brother — 
"when the Lord to Bethany came ! " Darkness 
fled at His approach. The shadows lifted when 
He came. O gentle reader, make your home a 
Bethany, and Jesus, who forsook the city for a 



<imiiimith', i\&m 



9 



'''it ' 






.^*'.« ;,', 




FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 349 

quiet, country village, will take up His abode 
with you ! He will weep with you when you weep. 
He will revive your hopes when they are buried. 

Continuing our j'ourney eastward, we soon find 
ourselves in a deep and narrow ravine. The 
floor of this wady, or ravine, is twelve or fifteen 
feet wide, while its rocky sides lift themselves up 
very steeply for three or four hundred feet, getting 
wider and yet wider towards the top. I now 
turn to my Bible, and find that once upon a time 
David ruled and reigned in Jerusalem. But Ab- 
salom rebelled against his father and drove the 
King from the city. Fleeing towards Jericho, 
David passed through this ravine. Then Shimei, 
one of Absalom's servants, who was also one of 
the house-hold of Saul, ran alono- on the edgfe of 
the precipice and cursed David, and rolled great 
stones down the steep bluff, trying to kill him, 
saying to him: "Come out, come out, thou bloody 
man, and thou man of Belial!" 

Passing on through this historic wady, we come 
now to where it opens wide its broad arms and 
forms a splendid valley of a hundred acres or 
more. "Halt! Halt!" cries one of the guards. 
"Halt!" Every horse is motionless. Everyman 
is seized with terror. We expect the robbers to 
attack us at any moment. But we soon dismiss 
all hope on that line, for we see we are to be de- 
prived of that privilege. Our guards simply want 
to exhibit to us their splendid feats of horseman- 
ship. And ah me! how graceful they are. Each 



350 FROM JERUSALEM T(^ JERICHO. 

rider seems a part of his Arab horse. The guards 
rush at, and fight each other, to show us how 
skilled they are in this method of warfare, and 




AN ARAB HORSEMAN. 



how impossible it would be for us to resist, or es- 
cape from an attacking party of Bedouins. Each 
horse feels his keeping. He moves like a bundle 



FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 35 I 

of Steel springs. It seems that he will leave the 
earth and fly through the air. These superb 
horses remind us of the beautiful story we have 
all read in the Arabian Nights, about those splen- 
did Arabian mares that used to jDrance through 
the streets of Damascus, until break of day, and 
"then fly away towards Bagdad on enchanted 
carpets." 

Leaving here, the way is so rough that I can 
but say to my companions: "Pull off your coats, 
boys, pull off your coats, and roll up your sleeves, 
'for Jordan am a hard road to trabble.'" No 
saying was ever more true: Jordan am a hard 
road to travel ! 

We are now stopped for luncheon at a Kahn, 
or inn, half way from Jerusalem to Jericho, about 
eleven miles from either place. Once more I 
read in my Bible that a certain man went down 
Irom Jerusalem to Jericho and fell among thieves. 
The thieves beat the man, dragged him out to 
one side of the road, and left him for dead. But 
the Good Samaritan came along, took the poor 
Jew who had been beaten, put him on his donkey 
and'Carried him to an inn, and paid the inn-keeper 
to take care of him. Now, reader, what will you 
think when I tell you that 1 suppose I am stop- 
ping at the same inn where the Good Samaritan 
left the unfortunate Jew? Let me take you into 
my confidence and tell you why I think so. The 
road from Jerusalem to Jericho is the same now 
that it was 2,000 years ago. We know this from 



FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 353 

the remains of the old Roman aqueduct along the 
roadside. There is only one fountain on this 
road, and that one is close by this Kahn. I take 
it that every Kahn, or hotel, must, of necessity, be 
built near some fountain. Now if the road was 
the same in our Lord's time as it is to-day, and if 
then, as now, there was only one fountain on the 
way, and if the inn, or Kahn, spoken of in the 
Bible was built by a fountain, then we are forced 
to the conclusion that it was near the spring from 
which we have just drunk. 

Be this as it may, we can not tarry here ; we 
must continue our eastward journey. About an 
hour after leaving- the inn of Good Samaritan 
fame, we see several half-naked, ill-favored, hard- 
featured, cadaverous-lookinof Bedouins on the hill- 
sides near the road. They are Brigands, high- 
waymen, and their very appearance is enough to 
make a civilized man shudder. They are wearing 
sandals. Their legs are wrapped with straw and 
bark of trees, which is tied on with rawhide 
strings. They have coarse, filthy clothes loosely 
drawn around the lower part of their bodies. 
Their arms and breasts and chins and cheeks are 
tattooed in figures of eagles and serpents and 
wild beasts. They are tall, lean, swarthy, snuff- 
colored, grim-visaged, wrinkled-browed, shaggy- 
haired, and fiery-eyed. Around each one is a 
leathern girdle, looped here and there with gay 
colored ribbons or rags. Each belt holds a 
bowie-knife and two horse-pistols, and supports a 



354 FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 

broad-sword suspended from it. In one hand 
the Brigand holds a javelin, while the other grasps 
a long, single-barreled, flint-and-steel shot-gun. 
They live in the clefts of the rocks — in the dens 
and caves of the earth, and the cave-scent clings 
to them still. 

These are the robbers against whom we have to 
be protected. They are numerous along this 
route, and I repeat that without the government 
guards it would be impossible to escape them. 
And yet our guards are a part and parcel of the 
same clan, who would have robbed us if we had 
not employed them. We pay the guards so much, 
and it is a fact that they divide spoils with the 
Brigands! It a kind of division of labor. The 
robbers infest the road, making the way danger- 
ous, so that travelers will be compelled to employ 
protectors, and then the protectors and robbers 
share and share alike in the profits of the busi- 
ness. It is strange, and yet as true as strange, 
that the government itself is in league with hio-h- 
waymen ! A certain sheik, here, pays the Turkish 
government so much money each year for the 
privilege of robbing travelers! If Peter the Her- 
mit could come forth from his tomb, he would 
speak these words in Europe: "where hearing 
would hatch them," I am sure that his words 
against the Turkish government would "murder 
as they fell." This is enough to arouse another 
"Crusade for Freedom in Freedom's Holy Land." 



FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 355 

"How long, O Cataline, wilt thou thus continue to 
abuse our patience!" 

The country has been dreary and the road 
rough from the beginning of the journey, but it 
grows worse as we continue. We now see noth- 
ing but a succession of deep gorges, stony ridges, 
and rocky peaks. Imagine a thousand tea-cups 
turned bottom upwards, separated by a thousand 
deep wadys and narrow ravines, the cups, some of 
them, rising to the height of several hundred feet, 
and the yawning chasms sinking to an enormous 
depth, and you have a picture of what now greets 
my eyes. I suppose that this mountain side once 
supported a luxuriant forest, and that ^.fterwards 
it rewarded the yeoman's toil with abundant har- 
vests. But aofes a^o the hillside ditches were 
neglected; hence gutters were formed, the soil 
was washed off, fertility gave way to barrenness, 
beauty to deformity. Of course the ravines have 
from age to age washed deeper and deeper, until 
now nothing is left but deep, winding chasms, bare 
and desolate hills. The road winds around here 
and there like a serpent. Now it hangs high on 
the bluff upon a narrow shelf of rock, which pro- 
jects over the valley. Johnson and Hamlin dis- 
mount. They know that one false step would 
dash them to death. With more of daring- than 
wisdom I shout to them: 



" I wish your horses swift and sure of foot. 
And so I do commend you to their backs." 



FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 357 

We now descend into the valley, only to rise again, 
and skirt along the bluff where the narrow road 
is cut into the rock. 

But, praise the Lord, perilous places are past, 
and' the scene changes. We pass out of the 
Wady Kelt, and lo, the broad valley, the sacred 
river, and the Salt Sea burst upon our vision! 
These things within themselves are not so at- 
tractive to the eye, but, compared with the hill- 
country behind us, they are as beautiful as "apples 
of gold in baskets of silver." For ten miles 
above the Dead Sea the Jordan valley is fourteen 
miles wide, and is divided by the river which flows 
through its centre. This part of the valley west 
of the river is .called the Plain of Jericho, while 
that portion beyond the river is known as the 
Plain of Moab. So the valley, practically level, 
stretches out for seven miles on either side of the 
river. Then on either side of the river, seven 
miles from it, and parallel with it, there rises up 
a frowning wall of rock whose savage grandeur 
might well typify ruin and desolation. For ages 
the winter torrents have been coursing down their 
sides, until now they are seamed and furrowed, cut 
and scarred in every possible manner, and the 
mountains seem to writhe in pain and agony! 

But we have left the hills. We are now in the 
valley, and here before us, seven miles from the 
river, at the edge of the plain and at the base of 
the mountain, stands Jericho, old hoary-headed 
Jericho — "The City of Palm Trees." She is 



358 FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 

venerable, indeed! It was Jericho that Moses 
looked down upon from the heights of Nebo. It 
was Jericho that furnished shelter to the "young 
men" who came from Israel's camp to "spy out 
the country." It was Jericho that Joshua first 
attacked "after crossing over the Jordan." Her 
fortifications then were strong, her walls high. 
Her people thought "Our castle's strength will 
laugh a siege to scorn." But the bold spirit of 
Joshua was undaunted. It was Gods to com- 
mand and his to obey. He surrounded the city. 
He sounded the tocsin. The walls fell ! Now, 
reader, let us realize that when God commands 
you or me to do anything, we should move for- 
ward though confronted by walls of adamant! 
What is opposition to us.? We move in obedi- 
ence to the behest of Him who could besiege a 
city with "trumps of Joshua," and route a host 
with the " lamps of Gideon ! " 

After Joshua's day, Herod the Great rebuilt the 
city on a grander scale than ever. Stately castles 
were erected, marble palaces arose on every hand. 
Great wealth was lavished upon the city. She 
was robed in rich apparel and decked with "rubies 
rare." Here Herod held high carnival. Here he 
ruled and reveled, and 

"All went merry as a marriage Bell." 

But Time has dealt harshly with Jericho. 
Fickle Fortune has played her false. She has 
passed through all the vicissitudes of fortune. 



FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 359 

Iron-fingered Fate has torn off her royal robes, 
and she sits to-day clad in sackcloth and ashes. 
''Gray lizards, those heirs of ruin, of sepulchres, 
and desolation, glide in and out among the rocks, 
or lie still and sun themselves. Where prosperity 
has reigned and fallen ; where glory has flamed 
and gone out; where beauty has dwelt and passed 
away; where gladness was, and sorrow is; where 
the pomp of life has been, and silence and death 
brood in high places, — there this reptile makes 
his home and mocks at human vanity. His coat 
is the color of ashes, and ashes are the symbol of 
hopes that have perished; of aspirations that 
have come to naught; of loves that are buried. 
If he could speak he would say, 'Build temples: I 
will lord it in their ruins; build palaces: I will 
inhabit them; erect empires: I will inherit them; 
bury your beautiful: I will watch the worms at 
their work; and you who stand here and moralize 
over me : I will crawl over your corpse at last.'" 

The locations of ancient and of modern Jericho 
are not exactly the same, though not far apart. 
The present village is inhabited by about 600 
Arabs who are huddled togfether in less than 
seventy-five houses. Houses, did I say? They 
are unworthy of the name. They are wretched 
huts, constructed, for the most part, of rough, un- 
hewn, undressed stone. As these stones are put 
together without the use of mortar, the walls are 
broad at the bottom, and get narrower and a little 
narrower towards the top, which is about six feet 



360 FROM JERUSALEM TO JERICHO. 

from the ground. In each of the four corners of 
this rock pen, is driven a stake which is usually 
about eight feet high, or some two feet higher 
than the top of the wall. Long, straight poles 
reach from one stake to another, then other poles 
are placed like lattice work all across the top of 
the pen. A thick layer of grass and weeds and 
cane tops having been placed on these cross poles, 
dirt, or earth, is then piled up to a depth of from 
eighteen to twenty-four inches. Thus the roof is 
formed. The floor is more simple in its con- 
struction, as it is composed of the native earth or 
bare rock. Doors are simply gaps in the wall. 
Windows and chimneys are unknown, and indeed 
unnecessary — air-holes are abundant, and the 
smoke can escape anywhere. The rude houses 
are separated from each other, and the whole 
village is surrounded, by a low, rough hedge of 
dry, thorny bushes. Tliis is a fair representation 
of the present architecture of Jericho. And the 
inhabitants are as lazy and trifling, as filthy and 
ignorant, as the huts they live in would naturally 
suggest. The children dress in sunshine^ while 
the parents hide their nakedness with rags and 
loose wraps of cloth. 

The Plain of Jericho, seven by ten miles in 
extent, was at one time, according to Josephus, "a 
divine region, covered with beautiful gardens, and 
groves of palms of all kinds, the whole splendidly 
watered." The water supply, no doubt, came 
then, as it comes now, from the Sultan's Spring, or, 



FROM JARUSALEM TO JERICHO. 361 

as it is sometimes called, the Spring of Elisha. 
This bold and beautiful fountain bursts forth 
from the foot of the Judean hills some two miles 
from Jericho, and, flowing across the plain in a 
southwesterly direction, empties into the Jordan. 
From the main channel, a large number of small 
streams flow out in different directions into the 
valley, and thus fructify a considerable portion 
of the plain. The half cultivated patches we 
find here now, though only partially irrigated^ 
are exceedingly rich and productive, The cli- 
mate in this valley is suitable to the growth of 
almost any tropical or warm-natured plant. But 
the meagre crops are confined to wheat, millet, 
tobacco, cucumbers, and beans. On this plain, 
near the Wady Kelt, through which we enter- 
ed the valley, is a large stone reservoir, 471 
feet by 564 feet, called the Pool of Moses. Going 
across the plain to this mammoth pool, is an 
old aqueduct which evidently supplied it, at 
one time, with water. Then smaller aqueducts 
carried the water to all parts of the valley. This 
pool, and these aqueducts, were probably built 
by Mark Antony just before he gave this region 
of country to Cleopatra, or by Herod the Great, 
whose base life was ended at Jericho in a fit 
of agony. By this means of irrigation the val- 
ley became what it might be made again — "the 
glory of the Jordan." 



CHAPTER XXXIII. 

BEYOND THE JORDAN. 



Plain of Moab — Children of Israel — Moses's Request — Moab a Rich Country — 
Lawless Clans — A Traveler Brutally Murdered — A Typical Son of Ishmael — 
Dens and Strongholds — Captured by a Clan of Arabs — Shut up in Mountain 
Caves — Heavy Ransom Exacted — The Moabite Stone — Confirmation of 
Scripture — Machaerus — John the Baptist — Prison Chambers — Character o' 
John — How to Gua;^e a Life — Hot-Springs — Herod's Visit—" Smell of Blooc 
still " — Mount Nebo — Fine View — Life of Moses — From Egypt to Nebo — An 
Arab Legend — Death of Moses. 



THE Plain of Moab, east of the Jordan, is, in 
character of soil and state of cultivation, 
very much like the Jericho plain described 
in the last chapter. The Plain of Moab is bound- 
ed on the east, as before stated, by a wall of rock 
which lifts itself up at some places almost perpen- 
dicularly, several hundred feet above the valley. 
From the top of this mountain ridge there stretch- 
es far away toward the east, a broad, elevated 
table-land, sloping gently as it recedes. This 
table-land is traversed here and there by deep 
wadys and narrow ravines, most of which have a 
general westwardly, direction, and empty their 
waters into the Jordan and Dead Sea. This 
goodly land of Moab is about fifty miles long by 
twenty broad, and this rolling plateau, though 
3,200 feet above the sea level, is remarkably rich 
and well watered. The country only needs a 



BEYOND THE JORDAN. 363 

wise head and an energetic hand to make these 
plains once more blossom as the rose. 

In order to enter the promised land, it was 
necessary for the Israelites to pass through this 
delightful region of country. Accordingly Moses 
"sent messengers unto Sihon, King of the Amor- 
ites, saying, Let me pass through thy land: we 
will not turn into the fields, or into the vineyards; 
we will not drink of the waters of the well: but 
we will go along by the king's highway, until we 
be past thy borders." A reasonable request this; 
but instead of granting it, "Sihon gathered^ all his 
people together" and went out to fight against 
Israel; went out to meet Moses and — death! 
Having routed the foe and possessed the land, 
Israel marched into Heshbon, the imperial city. 
Heshbon, now called Hasban, is situated among 
the hills of Moab, a little to the north, and about 
eieht miles to the east, of the Dead Sea. The 
ancient city, as the present ruins clearly show, 
was situated on two high hills some distance 
apart, east and west from each other, and on the 
saddle connecting the two. 

The inhabitants of this fair land ought to be 
gentlemen living like kings and princes. But in- 
stead of that they are separate, independent, and 
lawless clans or tribes of Arabs who live now, as 
in ancient times, not altogether, but chiefly, on 
plunder and the spoils of war. These clans east 
of the Jordan are now, and have always been, a 
curse to Palestine. Frequently at night they 



364 BEYOND THE JORDAN. 

swoop down like eagles upon the inhabitants west 
of the river, rob them of their grain, and drive 
away their camels, their flocks and herds. This 
practice frequently becomes so common that the 
government is forced to protect the people by 
keeping an armed body of soldiers along the river. 
Lest the reader should think me unduly preju- 
diced against these sons of the desert, I here 
introduce a quotation from the "Desert of the 
Exodus." Be it remembered that this splendid 
work was written by Prof, E. H. Palmer, a member 
of the^faculty of Cambridge University, England. 
Perhaps no man has lived during the present 
generation who knew more than he about Arab 
life and character. The fact that Prof. Palmer 
was afterwards brutally murdered by these people 
shows that his estimate of their character was 
correct and just. He says: "Robbery is not re- 
garded by the Bedawin as in the least a disgrace- 
ful thing, but 'a man taketh his sword, and goeth 
his way to rob and steal' (Esdras IV., 23), with a 
profound feeling of conscious rectitude and re- 
spectability. Several plans have been tried, from 
time to time, to make him a respectable member 
of society, but have signally failed; missionaries 
have gone to him, and, so long as they could 
supply him with tobacco and keep open tent for 
all comers, have found him sufficiently tractable. 
But they have made absolutely no impression 
upon him, after all. Indeed, the state of desert 
society has but little changed since the messenger 



BEYOND THE JORDAN. 365 

came in to the tent of Job, and said: 'The Chal- 
deans made out three bands, and fell upon the 
camels, and have carried them away, yea, and 
slain the servants with the edge of the sword'" 
(Job I., 17). 

"Agriculture might be made a means of im- 
proving the condition of the Arabs; indeed, the 
only other method of attaining this end would be 
to civilize them off the face of the earth alto- 
gether. By Arab I mean the Bedawi, the typical 
son of Ishmael, 'whose hand is against every man,' 
and who is as much hated and feared in the towns 
and villages of Central Arabia as in Palestine. 
Wherever he goes, he brings with him ruin, vio- 
lence, and neglect. To call him a 'son of the 
desert' is a misnomer; half the desert owes its 
existence to him, and many a fertile plain from 
which he has driven its useful and industrious 
inhabitants becomes in his hands, like the 'South 
Country,' a parched and barren wilderness. He 
has a constitutional dislike to work, and is entire- 
ly unscrupulous as to the means he employs to 
live without it; these qualities (which also adorn 
and make the thief and burglar of civilization) he 
mistakes for evidences of thorough breedine, and 
prides himself accordingly upon being one of 
Nature's gentlemen." (pp. 240, 241, 243). 

There are so many dens and caves and strong- 
holds in the mountains of Moab that it would be 
next to impossible for the government to rid 
herself of these Arab clans. I am told that now. 



366 BEYOND THE JORDAN. 

and for many years past, the most powerful of all 
these lawless tribes is the one called Beni Sukrh, 
whose head quarters are the famous city and 
fortress of Kerak. This strong-hold is situated 
on the banks and near the mouth of the river 
Arnon, which empties into the Dead Sea on the 
west side, and about fifteen miles from its north 
end. This clan some years ago captured Canon 
Tristram and party, and exacted from them a 
large sum of money as a ransom. In his "Land 
of Moab" Tristram has given a peculiarly striking 
description of the fortress Kerak, in which he, 
himself, was prisoner. It is built on an isolated 
rock which rises high in the air, and whose level 
summit is surrounded on all sides but the eastern 
by chasms from 800 to 1,000 feet deep, and 100 
feet wide, with perpendicular sides. A well-built 
wall surrounds the brow of the precipice on all 
sides, and the only two places of entrance are 
through arches tunneled in the solid rock from 
the side of the precipice to the level within. 
These narrow and well-guarded entrances are ap- 
proached by rock-hewn paths, barely wide enough 
for men or asses to walk on in single file. This 
is one of the most impregnable strongholds on 
earth. Gibraltar is not to be compared with it. 
In this citadel one could safely say: 

" I will not be afraid of death and bane 
Till Birnam forest come to Dunsinane." 

This is the Kir-Hareseth of Scripture, and here 



BEYOND THE JORDAN. 367 

it was that Mesha, King of Moab, took refuge 
after his army was destroyed by the combined 
forces of Israel, Judah, and Edom. These three 
kings cut Mesha's army to pieces, but they knew 
it was folly to besiege his castle. Coming to this, 
they gave up in despair and went home. After 
their departure, Mesha, filled with gratitude for 
the safety that this fortress afforded him, "took 
his eldest son, that should have reigned in his 
stead, and offered him for a burnt offering upon 
the wall." 

Probably it would be well in this connection to 
mention a celebrated stone that I saw in a mu- 
seum in Paris. Do you ask, "Why introduce that 
stone here?" Because this is the proper place to 
introduce it. It is the famous Moabite Stone 
that was found among the ruins of Dhiban not 
many miles from this place. Dhiban (the Dibon 
of Scripture), situated on two hills, is now only a 
ruined village, although the numerous traces of 
buildings existing in the community indicate that 
it was once a flourishing town. In 1868 Rev. F. 
A. Klein, a missionary of the English church, 
while digging amid the rubbish of Dhiban, made 
the fortunate discovery. This basaltic rock, two 
by three feet in size, with one side covered by a 
Moabite inscription, has a strange history and 
tells a wonderful tale. 

When the stone was discovered a ereat ado 
was made over it. The Prussian eovernment 
sought and obtained permission to remove it. 



368 BEYOND THE JORDAN. 

The Bedouin tribe in whose territory it was found 
was offered an enormous sum of money to part 
with it. Indeed, the amount offered was so great 
that the Arabs thought the stone must be of 
untold value. The news spread. Another tribe 
near by, hearing of the new-found stone and the 
great price offered for it, marched over and claim- 
ed it as their own. As about the "Slave Stone," 
a quarrel and a war ensued between the tribes, 
during which many men were slaughtered on both 
sides. The Stone was broken, but afterwards the 
pieces were put together, and the inscription was 
translated. 

"The inscription," says Prof. Palmer, "commem- 
orates the reign of a certain Mesha, King of Moab, 
and records the triumphs obtained by him over 
Israel in the course of a long and sanguinary 
struggle. It begins by setting forth his name and 
titles, and briefly recounts his successful effort to 
throw off the yoke of the King of Israel; then 
follows a list of bloody battles fought, of towns 
wrested from the enemy, and of spoil and captives 
fallen into his hands. For these conquests he 
returns solemn thanks to Chemosh, his god — 'the 
abomination of Moab' — and glories with a religi- 
ous fervor, that sounds strangely to our ears, in 
having despoiled the sanctuary of Jehovah. 

The inscription concludes by setting forth the 
names of towns rebuilt or fortified by the Moabite 
king, of altars raised to Chemosh, of wells and 
cisterns dug, and other peaceful work accomplish- 



BEYOND THE JORDAN. 369 

ed. This portion of the record is a most valuable 
addition to our knowledge of sacred geography; 
for the names, as given on the Moabite Stone, 
engraved by one who knew them in his daily life, 
are, in nearly every case, absolutely identical with 
those found in the Bible itself and testify to the 
wonderful' integrity with which the Scriptures have 
been preserved. So far we have the history of 
King Mesha's rebellion from his own Moabite 
point of view, and so far we read of nothing but 
his success; but, if we turn to 2 Kings III: 5-27, 
we may look upon the other side of the picture. 
In that passage we have a concise but vivid ac- 
count of the rebellion and temporary successes 
against Israel of this same monarch. There we 
learn how the allied kings of Israel, Judah and 
Edom, went against the rebellious prince; how 
they marched by way of Edom, that is, round by 
the southern end of the Dead Sea; how they 
devastated the land of Moab, and drove their foe- 
man to take refuge in his fortress of Kir-Haraseth, 
in Wady Kerak. The passage referred to above 
speaks of the author of the Dhiban inscription in 
the following terms: 

"And Mesha, King of Moab, was a sheep- 
master, and rendered unto the King of Israel an 
hundred thousand lambs and an hundred thou- 
sand rams with wool." (2 Kings III: 4). Here, 
again, the Bible receives fresh confirmation from 
geographical facts; Moab, with its extensive grass- 
covered uplands, is even now an essentially sheep- 



370 BEYOND THE JORDAN. 

breeding country, although the "fenced cities and 
folds for sheep," of which mention is made in the 
Book of Numbers XXXII: 36), are all in ruins. 
But in its palmier days, when those rich pastures 
were covered with flocks, no more appropriate 
title could have been given to the king of such a 
country than that he 'was a sheep-master.'" 

In this ^ame mountainous region, about six 
miles north of Kerak, near the head of a deep 
wady which empties into the Dead Sea, is situated 
Machaerus, where the head-man's ax ended the 
earthly life of John the Baptist, the forerunner of 
Christ. Machaerus, like Kerak, is a naturar for- 
tress — one of Nature's strong-holds. Josephus 
describes it as follows: "The nature of the place 
was very capable of affording the surest hopes of 
safety to those that possessed it, as well as delay 
and fear to those that should attack it; for what 
was walled in was itself a very rocky hill, elevated 
to a very great height, which circumstance alone 
made it very hard to be subdued. It was also so 
contrived by nature that it could not be easily 
ascended; for it is, as it were, ditched about with 
such valleys on all sides, and to such a depth, that 
the eye can not reach their bottoms, and such as 
are not easily Xo be passed over, and even such 
as it is impossible to fill up with earth. For that 
valley which cuts it on the west extends to three 
score furlongs; on the same side it was also that 
Machaerus had the tallest top of its hill elevated 
above the rest. But then for the valleys that lay 



BEYOND THE JORDAN. 371 

on the north and south sides, although they be 
not so large as that already described, yet it is in 
like manner an impracticable thing to think of 
getting over them; and for the valley that lies on 
the east side, its depth is found to be no less than 
a hundred cubits. It extends as far as a-moun- 
tain that lies over against Machaerus, with which 
it is bounded. Herod built a wall round on top 
of the hill, and erected towers at the corners a 
hundred and sixty cubits high; in the middle of 
which place he built a palace, after a magnificent 
manner, wherein were large and beautiful edifices. 
He also made a great many reservoirs for the 
reception of water, that there might be plenty of 
it ready for all uses" (Wars VI : 1-2). 

Inside of this impregnable fortress, the traveler 
of to-day finds two prison chambers cut in the 
solid rock. These rock-hewn dungeons once 
echoed the tread, and resounded with the songs 
and prayers, of that strong-charactered and iron- 
willed man of God who came to prepare the way 
of the Lord — to make His paths straight! It 
makes one shudder to stand here amidst the 
solemn grandeur of these storm-beaten rocks, and 
contemplate the tragic history of this great man. 
A great man? Yes. It was John the Baptist 
who first had the courage to stand before his 
fellow-countrymen, and, looking them squarely in 
the face, say: "Repent ye; for the kingdom of 
heaven is at hand." With stentorian voice he 
cried: "O, generation of vipers;" "the ax is laid 



372 BEYOND THE JORDAN. 

at the root of the tree;" "God is able of these 
stones to raise up children unto Abraham." "He 
that Cometh after me shall baptize you with fire, 
He will thoroug-hly purge His floor and will burn 
up the chaff with unquenchable fire." It was John 
the Baptist who buried Christ the Lord in yonder 
rolling river. It was John the Baptist who point- 
ed to Him and said: "Behold the Lamb of God 
that taketh away the sin of the world." 

I thank God for the life and character of John 
the Baptist who, after all the honors heaped upon 
him, could say, I am nobody — I am simply the 
voice of One crying in the wilderness. He that 
cometh after me is mightier than I, whose shoes I 
am not worthy to bear. He must Increase but I 
must decrease. Yes, John said that he was no- 
body — that he was only a voice, and yet Jesus 
says: "Among those born of women there hath 
not arisen a greater than John the Baptist." Oh, 
to be nobody ! Oh, to be only the voice of Jesus, 
calling men unto righteousness, and warning them 
to flee the wrath to come! Oh, that the writer 
and the reader of this chapter may "rise upon the 
stepping-stones of their dead selves to higher 
things!" O, God, graciously grant, I pray thee, 
that both writer and reader may realize that the 
magnitude of any life is to be determined by the 
distance of self from the centre ! 

In the same chasm with Machaerus, and not far 
away, there is a group of ten hot springs bursting 
forth from the side of the wady one hundred feet 



BEYOND THE JORDAN. T^J T^ 

or more from its rocky bed. Although in close 
proximity to each other these springs vary in 
temperature from 130 to 142 degrees. According 
to Josephus, some of these fountains are bitter 
and others sweet. The waters are said to posesss 
great medicinal properties and healing virtues. 
The maimed, the halt, and the blind resort hither 
in search of health. While living at Jericho, just 
before his death, Herod the Great, according to 
Josephus, came to these springs hoping to drown 
his disease. But the wicked, adulterous, murder- 
ous Herod was not so sick, I trow, 

"As he was troubled with thick-coming fancies 
That kept him from his rest." 

Herod was a murderer; and wash his guilt away 
he never could. He might wash, and wash and 
wash, and cry: "Out, out damned spot!" But 
there was the "smell of blood still." He might 
have said as Macbeth afterwards did: 

"Will all great Neptune's ocean wash this blood 
Clean from my hand ? No ; this my hand will rather 
The multitudinous seas incarnadine, 
Making the green one red." 

North of Machaerus, and not far from Heshbon, 
is Mt. Nebo from which Moses viewed the land of 
promise, and upon which, also, he breathed his 
last. This peak, as one would naturally suppose, 
commands a fine view of the surrounding country. 
For twenty miles to the south and southeast, one's 



374 BEYOND THE JORDAN. 

eyes sweep over an elevated tableland of unusual 
richness and beauty. The range of vision toward 
the rising sun extends to where the blue sky and 
the sandy desert meet. Looking westward one 
sees the valley of the Jordan, and traces the 
wanderines of the river from the Sea of Galilee 
to the Dead Sea. Beyond the Jordan is the land 
of "milk and honey" that Moses was never allow- 
ed to enter. Moses came up hither from the 
plain of Moab, and the Lord showed, him the 
country and said unto him, "This is the land 
which I sware unto Abraham, unto Isaac, and 
unto Jacob saying, I will give it unto thy seed: 
I have caused thee to see it with thine eyes, but 
thou shalt not go over thither. So Moses the 
servant of the Lord died there in the land of 
Moab, according to the word of the Lord. And 
he buried him in a valley in the land of Moab, 
over against Beth-peor: but no man knoweth of 
his sepulchre unto this day. And Moses was an 
hundred and twenty years old when he died: his 
eye was not dim, nor his natural force abated." 

As the reader sits in his swino-inor hammock 
beneath the wide-spreading branches of some 
great oak and pronounces these words to a listen- 
ing friend, they may sound light and trifling. But 
if he could stand here where I am, and lift his 
eyes from the sacred page and let them fall at 
once upon the surrounding hills and valleys, me- 
thinks these words would then each weigh a pound. 
I have never studied the life of any mortal man 



BEYOND THE JORDAN. 375 

with the same degree of interest that I now study 
the life and character of Moses. Probably it is 
all the more enjoyable because I have been down 
in Egypt where Moses was born. I have been 
sailing up and down the Nile where Moses once 
floated in the ark of bulrushes. As I sat in a 
boat on the broad bosom of that majestic river, 
and looked out upon its banks, I half-way imagin- 
ed that I could see Moses's mother weaving the 
ark. Reader, would you know how that ark was 
made? Well, it was on this wise. Moses's mother 
took a bulrush, and a prayer, and faith, and a tear, 
and plaited them together. Then more faith, and 
tears, and bulrushes, and prayers, and plaited 
them toQ^ether. When a mother has thus woven 
an ark, she can trustingly launch her babe upon 
any waters ! And I am persuaded that if we, in 
our Christian work, would use more faith and 
tears and prayers and less bulrushes, it would be 
far better for our Redeemer's Kingdom. 

I repeat that I have been in Egypt where 
Moses was born; on the Nile where he floated; 
to Pharaoh's court where he was educated; I 
have been out on the desert where Moses killed 
an Egyptian because he imposed upon a Hebrew. 
I then climbed to the top of the regal pyramid, 
and looked out over the land of Goshen where 
Israel served four hundred years in bondage. I 
followed Moses down to the Red Sea where he 
led Israel across. I looked up to the frowning 
brow of Sinai where Moses met God face to face, 



'^'](:> BEYOND THE JORDAN. 

and talked with him as man to man; where he 
reached up and received from the hand of God 
the' tables of stone on which were written the 
Ten Commandments, 

After following Moses around in the wilderness 
to some extent, I have come now to where his 
eyes were closed in death. The inhabitants of 
this country have no written history, but they 
know a great deal traditionally about the life and 
character of Moses. Many weird stories and 
beautifulTegends concerning him have been hand- 
ed down from generation to generation, and are 
as fresh in the minds of the people to-day as if he 
had died within the recollection of some now liv- 
ing. Frequently in these stories Scripture history 
and legendary lore are beautifully interwoven. 
For instance, the people here say that Moses with 
three million Jews had camped on the plain of 
Moab. And God said unto him, "Moses, get thee 
up into yonder, mountain, and I will show thee 
from thence the land of promise." When God 
spake Moses obeyed — he started at once. Stand- 
ing high upon the mountain side he looked back 
upon the tabernacle and the tents of Israel. The 
people followed him with their prayers and bless- 
ings. He paused, looked back at his brethren, 
and waved them a last adieu, as if to say, 

" Fare thee well, and if forever, 
Still forever fare thee well." 

Then with his face turned toward the mountain 



BEYOND THE JORDAN. 2>11 

top, and his heart lifted to heaven, he continued 
his onward, upward journey, climbing higher and 
higher, until after a while there was nothing at all 
above him save eagles, and stars, and God. Away 
up here above the earth Moses saw two men — 
two angels in the form of men, and said unto 
them, "Brethren, what are you doing?" "We are 
digging a grave, sir." " For whom are you digging 
the grave?" "We know not for whom it is. God 
told us to dig it, and we are simply doing His 
bidding. And, Moses," they continue, "the man 
for whom we are digging this grave is the best 
creature in all the earth — God loves him well. 
He is just about your size, and, Moses, we do not 
know whether this grave is long enough and deep 
enough. Will you please lie down here and 
measure it for us?" Moses responded, ''Yea, 
brethren, if you request it." "We do request it." 
So Moses lay down to measure the grave for 
them, and they stooped over and kissed him to 
sleep, and Moses was dead. 

These people have other legends about Moses 
as pathetic and beautiful as the one just given. 
But we have seen enough to know that 

" By Nebo's lonely mountain, 
On this side Jordan's wave, 
In a vale in the land of Moab, 

There lies a lonely grave. 
And no man dug that sepulchre, 

And no man saw it e'er ; 
For the Angels of God upturned the sod, 
And laid the dead man there. 



,yS BEYOND THE JORDAN. 

"That was the grandest funeral 

That ever passed on earth ; 
But no man heard the tramphng, 

Or saw the train go forth. 
Noiselessly as the daylight 

Comes when the night is done, 
And the crimson streak on ocean's cheek. 

Grows into the great sun — 

" Noiselessly as the spring-time 

Her crown of verdure weaves, 
And all the trees on all the hills 

Open their thousand leaves — 
So, without sound of music. 

Or voice of them that wept. 
Silently do'vn from the mountain crown 

The great procession swept. 

"This was the bravest warrior 

That ever buckled sword ; 
This the most gifted poet 

That ever breathed a word ; 
And never earth's philosopher 

Traced, with his golden pen, 
On the deathless page, truths half so sage. 

As he wrote down for men. 

"And had he not high honor? 

The hill- side for his pall ; 
To lie in state while angels wait 

With stars for tapers tall ; 
And the dark rock pines, like tossing plumes, 

Over his bier to wave ; 
And God's own hand, in that lonely land, 

To lay him in the grave. 

" In that deep grave, without a name, 
Whence uncofifined clay 



BEYOND THE JORDAN. 379 

Shall break again — most wondrous thought — 

Before the Judgment-day, 
And stand with glory wrapped around 

On the hills he never trod, 
And speak of the strife that won our life 

With the Incarnate Son of God. 

" Oh, lonely tomb in Moab's land, 
Oh, dark Beth-peor's hill, 

Speak to these curious hearts of ours. 
And teach them to be still. 

God hath his mysteries of grace- 
Ways we can not tell ; 

He hides them deep, like the secret sleep 
Of him he loved so well." 

If we would learn a lesson from the life and 
character of this great man, let it be this: In all 
things we are to obey God, both in the spirit and 
the letter of the law, remembering that for one dis- 
obedience Moses was not allozved to enter the promised 
land. 



CHAPTER XXXIV. 

THE JORDAN. 



Two Thoughts — From Neboto the River — Thrilling; Emotions — Historic Ground — 
A Sacred Scene — An Earnest Preacher — Christ Baptized — Awe-Stricken 
People — A Sacred River — Bathing of Pilgrims — Robes Become Shrouds — The 
Ghor of the Jordan — The Valley an Inclined Plane — The Three Sources of 
the River — The Jordan Proper — Banks — Tributaries — Bridges — River Chan- 
nel — Velocity of the Water — Its Temperature — Its Width and Depth — Vegeta- 
tion along the Stream — Wild Beasts — Birds. 



I AM now, as never before, impressed with this 
thought; that God's plans and purposes never 
depend upon any one man. When Moses 
was no more, Joshua took up, and carried on to 
completion, his unfinished work. We also have 
here a beautiful example of how the labors of 
God's servants are interlinked with each other. 
Moses liberated Israel from Egyptian bondage, 
but It was left for Joshua to lead them into the 
promised land. Forty years they had wandered 
in the wilderness, warring with the different tribes 
through whose territory they had passed ; forty 
years they had been miraculously fed with manna; 
forty years they were guided by a pillar of cloud 
by day, and a pillar of fire by night, — but at last 
the gladsome day came when they were to ex- 
change the stony wilderness for the land that 
flowed with milk and honey. There was joy in 
the camp. With happy hearts and strong hands, 



THE TORDAN. ^8 1 



O"^ 



three million Hebrews folded their tents and 
marched side by side, shoulder to shoulder, to the 
river's brink. And I am sure that while there 
they sang in spirit, if not in letter: 

"On Jordan's stormy banks we stand, 
And cast a wishful eye 
To Canaan's fair and happy land, 
Where our possessions lie." 

It is well to walk in the footsteps of great men; 
so having followed Moses out of Egypt, let us 
now follow Joshua into Canaan. Leaving Nebo's 
summit, and coming down on the north side of 
the mountain, we find at its base a bold spring 
which bears the name of the g-reat law-criver. 
Around this spring of Moses the hosts of Israel, 
it is supposed, pitched their tents. Still following 
Joshua, we soon find ourselves standing on the 
banks of the Jordan. Ah, sacred river! How it 
thrills me to be here ! "Thy banks, winding in a 
thousand graceful mazes, are fringed with per- 
petual verdure ; thy pathway is cheered with the 
sight and song of birds, and by thy own clear 
voice of gushing minstrelsy. There is a pleasure 
in the green-wooded banks,^ seen far along the 
sloping valley ; a tracery of life, amid the death 
and dust that hem thee in, so like some trace of 
gentleness in a corrupt and wicked heart." 

I have crossed many important streams. I 
have been on the Rio Grande; I have sailed up 
and down the Mississippi and the Ohio, the Hud 



382 TIJE J<)KI)AN. 

son and the St. Lawrence; I have sailed on 
the Thames through London; on the Seine 
throuo^h Paris; on the Tiber throuorh Rome; on 
the Rhine through Germany; on the Danube 
through all western Europe; and the Nile through 
Egypt, — and yet I freely acknowledge that I was 
never so moved by any stream as by the sight of 
this historic river. It was the Jordan that divided 
and let the children of Israel pass over on dry 
ground. It was the Jordan whose waters cleansed 
Naaman of his leprosy. It was the Jordan whose 
stream floated an ax at the prophet's command,. 
It was the Jordan, also, on whose banks another 
prophet stood and preached repentance, and in 
whose waters he buried Christ in baptism. John 
the Baptist was a man after my own heart. He 
came on "the stage of action filled and fired with a 
purpose. He was conscious of a commission from 
God. He believed, therefore he spoke; and, as 
he spoke, the people left their homes and hovels 
in Jerusalem, Judea, and all the" region round 
about Jordan, and flocked to hear him. 

Reader, we are on historic ground. Stand here 
with me on the banks of the stream, and let us 
behold a sacred scene together. The river here 
makes a graceful curve towards the east, and is at 
this point about fifty yards or one hundred and 
fifty feet wide. The w^estern bank, on which we 
stand, is low and level, not more than eighteen 
inches or two feet above the surface of the river, 
and gently slopes down to the water. The op- 



THE JORDAN. ^^j 

poslte bank is a wall of rock, rising up perpendic- 
ularly for eighteen or twenty feet, then receding 
beautifully in a terrace, another terrace, and an- 
other one still. Terraces rise above and beyond 
each other like seats in an opera-house. These 
terraces gracefully stretch themselves along the 
rocky bluff of this river for two hundred yards or 
more, until at least a hundred and fifty or two 
hundred thousand people could be so seated along 
the terraced bluff as to look down upon its watery 
surface. Let us in our imagination re-people all 
these terraces with the Jews of old, with their 
quaint, Eastern costumes, with their hard faces 
and beaming eyes. There they sit, rising tier 
above tier. 

Now on this low bank, not far from us, stands 
the preacher in the" midst of a great concourse of 
people. Every ear is all attention, every eye is 
on the preacher. See! his bosom heaves, his 
face glows, his eyes sparkle, his words burn. His 
sentences strike, swift and glittering, like lightning 
flashes midst the roll of judgment-day thunders. 
Terrors of the day of wrath roll over his hearers 
as the foremost thought; sounds of hope break in, 
like soft music, to keep the contrite from despair. 
The moral world seems to shake. The people 
realize as never before their sin, their guilt, their 
need of a Savior. In their hearts they want, they 
yearn for, the promised Messiah. 

Now, lifting his eyes above the motley multi- 
tude, John beholds a strange personage coming 



384 THE JORDAN. 

towards him. Rough and rugged, bold and heroic, 
John is not a man to shrink from his fellows. He 
is no reed to be shaken by the wind. But, see! 
he trembles as the stranger approaches. Spiritual 
greatness wears a kingly crown which compels 
instant reverence. John, a moment ago as bold 
as a lion, is now as meek as a lamb. Shrinking 
from the new-comer he says, "I have need to be 
baptized of thee, and comest thou to me.?" Jesus, 
answering, said unto him, "Suffer it to be so now, 
for thus it becometh us to fulfill all righteousness." 
Then leading Jesus down into the river he 
baptizes Him; and immediately the heavens are 
opened, the Spirit of God, like a dove, descends 
and lights upon Him. There is the Son with the 
Spirit resting upon His head, and, lo ! a voice 
from heaven, saying, "This is my beloved Son in 
whom I am well pleased." The vast multitude 
who witness this strange sight are deeply moved. 
They are profoundly impressed. What means 
this strange baptism, this descent of the Spirit, 
this voice of God.? What means it all.? Who is 
this new-comer.? John answers by pointing to 
Jesus and saying, "Behold the Lamb of God that 
taketh away the sin of the world." As if to say, 
"This is He of whom Moses and the prophets did 
write — of whom I have told you, and before whom 
every earthly monarch shall bow." This day 
have the people witnessed one of the most won- 
derful events in the history of the world — a direct 
manifestation of the Triune God. There has this 



THE JORDAN. 385 

day begun an agitation and stir among the people 
that shall end in a tragedy on Calvary, 

These scenes have made the Jordan a sacred 
river. From the days of Constantine, to bathe or 
to be baptized in this river has been regarded a 
great privilege. We are told that "in the sixth 
century, marble steps led down into the water on 
both sides, at the spot where it is believed our 
Lord was baptized, while a wooden cross rose in 
the middle of the stream." Nor has reverence 
for this river diminished. On the contrary, it 
seems to have increased. Each year, during the 
week preceding Easter Sunday, thousands and 
thousands of people, from all parts of the world, 
assemble in Jerusalem and pitch their tents on 
the surrounding hills. They continue to come 
until the hills round about Jerusalem look like 
one far-reaching city of many-colored tents. 

Easter Sunday, with its strange ceremonies and 
joyous songs, is over. Monday morning, bright 
and early, there is great bustle and confusion in 
the camp. Every tent is folded. Camels, mules, 
and donkeys are packed ready for travel. The 
people mount — sometimes whole families of five 
or six on one camel. Some of the number stride 
the animal, while others are suspended in baskets 
which are tied tog-ether and hane on either side. 
Leaving Jerusalem, the pilgrims, in one great 
caravan, under the protection of the Turkish gov- 
ernment, start out for the "Sacred River." The 
Kedron valley and the side of the Mount of 



o 



86 THE JORDAN. 



Olives are filled with inhabitants of Jerusalem 
and the surrounding villages, who have come out 
to see the annual procession pass. On they go, 
an escort of Turkish soldiers with a white flag 
and sweet music leading the way. Then come 
camels and asses laden with pilgrims of every age 
and condition, of every clime and country, clad in 
costumes of every variety of cut and color, while 
a second group of soldiers, with the green stand- 
ard of the prophet, closes the long procession. 

As the shadows of evenino- beein to fall, the 
pilgrim's pitch their tents by Elisha's Fountain in 
the plain of Jericho. At night the whole plain is 
dotted with cheerful camp-fires. Gathering here, . 
in groups of two or three hundred, the people 
engage with great enthusiasm in a weird kind of 
ceremony which is to prepare them for the next 
day. At a late hour they fall asleep. 

The scene that follows their waking is vividly 
described by Lieut. Lynch of the U. S. Navy. 
He says: "At 3 A. M., we were aroused by the in- 
telligence that the pilgrims were coming. Rising 
in haste, we beheld thousands of torchligrhts, with 
a dark mass beneath, moving rapidly over the 
hills. Striking our tents with precipation, we 
hurriedly removed them and all our effects a 
short distance to the left. We had scarce finish- 
ed, when they were upon us: — men, women, and 
children, mounted on camels, horses, mules, and 
donkeys, rushed impetuously by toward the bank. 



THE JORDAN. 387 

They presented the appearance of fugitives from 
a routed army. 

"Our Bedawin friends here stood -us in good 
stead; — sticking their tufted spears before our 
tents, they mounted their steeds and formed a 
military cordon around us. But for them we 
should have been run down, and most of our 
effects trampled upon, scattered and lost. In all 
the wild haste of a disorderly rout, Copts and 
Russians, Poles, Armenians, Greeks and Syrians, 
from all parts of Asia, from Europe, from Africa, 
and from far-distant America, on they came; men, 
women and children, of every age and hue, and 
in every variety of costume; talking, screaming, 
shouting, in almost every known language under 
the sun. 

"Mounted as variously as those who had pre- 
ceded them, many of the women and children 
were suspended in baskets or confined in cages; 
and, with their eyes strained toward the river, 
heedless of all intervening obstacles, they hurried 
eagerly forward, and dismounting in haste and 
disrobing with precipitation, rushed down the 
bank and threw themselves into the stream. Each 
one plunged himself, or was dipped by another, 
three times, below the surface, in honor of the 
Trinity; and then filled a bottle, or some other 
utensil, from the river. The bathing-dress of 
many of the pilgrims was a white gown with a 
black cross upon it. 

"In an hour they began to disappear; and in 



388 THE JORDAN. 

less time than three hours the trodden surface 
of the lately crowded bank reflected no human 
shadow. The pageant disappeared as rapidly as 
it had approached, and left to us once more the 
silence and the solitude of the wilderness. It was 
like a dream. An immense crowd of human be- 
ings, said to be 8,000, but I thought not so many, 
had passed and re-passed before our tents, and 
left not a vestige behind them." 

These pilgrims come in such haste and con- 
fusion that frequently some of their number are 
drowned. And yet so great is the fanatical en- 
thusiasm of the crowd that little or no concern is 
awakened by the ill-timed death of the unfortu- 
nates. The usual bathing-dress is a long, loose- 
flowing, white gown. After bathing, the pilgrims 
carefully fold up these robes, thus consecrated, 
and carry them home with them to far-distant 
lands, in different parts of the world, and use 
them as burial-shrouds. 

I have never seen a better place for bathing 
and swimming. From the west side one wades 
down into the river, getting deeper and deeper 
the farther he goes from the bank. When about 
half way across, the water becomes too deep for 
wading, and close to the eastern bank it is so 
deep that one can hardly dive to the bottom. 
One finds water any depth from two to twelve 
feet. The bottom, being composed of sand and 
smooth rock, is all that could be desired. We are 
so delighted to be here that we hardly know how 



THE JORDAN. 389 

to leave. We remain, day after day, reading", 
fishing, swimming. We catch several messes of 
sweet, fresh fish, and fry and eat them on the 
banks of the stream. 

Having spoken somewhat at length about that 
place in the Jordan where it is supposed, with 
reasonable certainty, the Savior was baptized, and 
which is also the bathing-place of the pilgrims, I 
now proceed to describe the river from one end 
to the other. But, before speaking of the river 
proper, I desire to say something concerning the 
Ghor, or valley, of the Jordan. 

Beginning at the upper end of the Dead Sea, 
the Jordan valley extends one hundred and ten 
miles directly northward. It varies from three to 
ten miles in width, and has an average width of 
six miles. Now this valley, one hundred and ten 
miles long and six miles wide, is shut in on the 
east and west by great walls of rock. The eastern 
bluff is bolder than the one on the west — that is, 
it is more nearly perpendicular. It is also more 
regular as to altitude, the height ranging probably 
from 18,000 to 2,000 feet. The western wall, 
though less regular than the other, is sometimes 
as precipitous, and has some peaks that are as 
hig-h, if not hio-her. 

The entire valley is very deep, its northern end 
being 700 feet lower than the Mediterranean, 
while its southern end is 600 feet lower still. 
The whole valley is therefore one vast inclined 
plane, sloping from north to south. Through this 



390 THE JORDAN. 

valley, somewhat nearer to the eastern than to 
the western side, the Jordan winds its serpentine 
path. 

The river has its source in three bold springs 
near the upper end of the valley. One of these 
springs bursts forth from the side of Mt. Hermon, 
2,200 feet above the Mediterranean. A second 
strong spring gushes out from under a bold rock- 
cliff at Caesarea Philippi. These two springs are 
on the eastern side of the valley, while the third, 
which is of itself a small river, issues from the 
foot of the western hills, near the city of Dan- 
All of these fountains are large and beautiful. 
All of them send forth copious streams of fresh 
and sparkling water. Any one of them could run 
a half dozen mills, or factories, or irrigate the 
whole valley. These crystal waters, after flowing 
gently, and sometimes rushing madly, along their 
separate courses, unite for the first time in the 
little Lake of Huleh, or the waters of Merom, as 
it is often called. 

Huleh, about two by four miles square, is in the 
southern end of an exceedingly rich and fertile 
plain. In this plain, and around these waters. 
Joshua had some of his hardest-fought battles. 
Leaving this lake, the waters flow rapidly through 
a narrow, rocky gorge for eleven miles, and then 
empty into the Sea of Galilee, which is, in round 
numbers, 700 feet lozver than the surface of the 
Mediterranean. Remember, one spring came out 
from Hermon's side 2,200 feet above the Mediter- 



39'2 THE JORDAN. 

ranean. In the short distance of thirty-six miles, 
therefore, the waters have fallen 2,900 feet! 

The Jordan proper is the stream connecting 
the Sea of Galilee and the Dead Sea. These 
seas are only sixty-five miles apart; but the river, 
as if reluctant to enter that bitter Sea of Death, 
winds and twists so like a serpent that the water, 
in going from one sea to the other, flows two 
hundred miles, and empties at last into the Dead 
Sea, 1,300 feet below the Mediterranean! 

The Jordan has three sets of banks, which are 
marked with more or less distinctness according 
as the hills approach near to, or recede from, the 
river. Ordinarily, of course, the stream is confin- 
ed within the lower banks. But during the annual 
rise the water over-flows these lower banks, and 
spreads out over the valley between the second 
terraces, or banks. No important tributaries are 
received from the west; but the Hieromax and 
the Jabbok, each a small river, empty into the 
Jordan from the east. The river is crossed by 
four well-known fords; one just below the Sea of 
Galilee, another just above the mouth of the 
Jabbok. The third and fourth are respectively 
above and below the pilgrim's bathing-place, which 
is about two and a half miles north of the Dead 
Sea. No bridge spans the river at present, but 
the remains of old Roman bridges may still be 
seen at some of the fords. 

In some places, the channel of the river is shut 
in by rock banks, steep and precipitous. At 



THE JORDAN. 393 

Others, the banks are of sand, or rich earth, and 
rise only a few feet above the surface of the 
water. Sometimes one bank is a bold rock cHff, 
rising abruptly, while the other slopes gently up 
from the river, and stretches out to join the 
fertile plain. 

Since the Jordan has its source in a fountain 
bursting out of a mountain side 2,200 feet above 
the Mediterranean, and since it empties into the 
Dead Sea 1,300 feet below the Mediterranean, a 
great many people falsely conclude that the river 
must, of necessity, be very swift. I grant that this 
seems a strong argument. Think of a river 136 
miles long having a fall of 3,500 feet! The natu- 
ral supposition is that such a stream would be 
exceedingly swift. But not so. The facts will 
not bear out the supposition. To be swift, a 
stream must have not only a great fall, but it 
must have, also, a comparatively straight channel. 
The Jordan is probably the most crooked river 
on earth. In a space of sixty-five miles of lati- 
tude, and five or six miles of longitude, it traver- 
ses at least two hundred miles. In some places, 
to be sure, the current is swift, as there are thirty 
or more falls, or rapids, in the Jordan. Some of 
these are quite marked, while others are less so. 
While near these falls, the stream is swift. In 
other places the water is deep, and moves slug- 
gishly. 

In speaking of the velocity of the water, it 
might be well to mention that a few years ago 



394 THE JORDAN. 

Lieut. Lynch, under appointment of the United 
States government, navigated the river from one 
end to the other. He met with many difficulties 
and some dangers. Shooting the rapids was per- 
ilous work. One of his boats was dashed against 
the rocks and went to pieces. Lieut. Lynch 's 
official report to the United States Navy depart- 
ment is the fullest, most accurate, and reliable 
description of the Jordan that has ever been pub- 
lished in this country. 

Again. Inasmuch as the Jordan rises in the 
mountains, and is constantly fed by the melting 
snows of Hermon, some philosophical students 
have argued that the water must necessarily be 
very cold at all times. But a few facts are worth . 
a cart-load of theories. And, as a matter of fact, 
the water of the Jordan is not cold, except during 
the winter season; and even tlien the temperature 
is by no means low. I bathed in the Jordan re- 
peatedly; once as late as the Fifteenth of Decem- 
ber, and the water was even then of a delightful 
temperature for bathing. 

The river valley is so deeply depressed that 
scarcely a breath of air is felt during the hot 
season. On this point. Dr. Geike says: "The 
heat of the Jordan plains is very great in summer, 
and oppressive even in spring; while in autumn it 
becomes very unhealthy for strangers. In May, 
the thermometer ranges frohi about 86 degrees in 
the early forenoon to over lOO degrees in the 
beginning of the afternoon, standing, even in the 










VIEW IN THE VALLEY OF THE JORDAN, 



395 



396 THE JORDAN. 

shade, at over 90 degrees." The annual mean 
temperature of the lower Jordan valley is between 
70 and 75 degrees Fahrenheit. From the above 
facts, the reader will readily see that it is quite 
impossible for a stream flowing through this val- 
ley ever to reach a very low temperature. 

The stream is from seventy-five to three hun- 
dred feet wide, and probably has an average 
depth of six and a half feet, or more, even during 
the dry season. At some places, however, the 
depth is much greater than this. Here and there, 
islands, robed in garments of living green, and 
decked with flowers of every hue, float, fairy-like, 
upon the bosom of the river. 

The terraces along the river are frequently one 
mass of vegetation. The weeping-willow grows 
on the banks, and dips her flowing tresses in the 
sacred stream. As one follows the windings of 
the historic river, his way is continually cheered 
by the gushing sound of some crystal rivulet, by 
the beauty and fragrance of the flowers, by the 
sight and song of birds. The tangled vine, the 
matted cane, the thick-growing forest trees of 
considerable size, and a great variety of under- 
growth, form a general rendezvous for wild ani- 
mals, and a perfect paradise for birds. Hyenas, 
tigers, wild boars, and bears abound here, espec- 
ially on the eastern side of the riven Here hawks, 
herons, pigeons, ducks, doves, and swallows build 
their nest and raise theiryoung. Here alsothe bul- 
bul and the nightingale sing their songs of praise. 



CHAPTER XXXV. 



THE DEAD SEA. 



A Wonderful Body of Water — Receives 20,000,000 Cubic Feet of Water per Day 
— Has no Outlet — Never Fills Up — In the Sea — Johnson's Suggestion as to 
my Identity — Why One Cannot Sink — "Salt Sea" — Caught in a Storm — 
Danger of Death — Dreary Waste — Sea of Fire — Johnson's Argument — New- 
Born Babe — Child Dies — Lot's Wife — Her Past History and Present Condi- 
tion — The Frenchman's Book — Why the Sea is so Salt — Why it Never Fills 
Up — Sown with Diamonds — Origin of the Dead Sea — God's Wrath — The 
Sodom Apple — The Sea an Emblem of Death 



THE Dead Sea is, In many respects, the most 
wonderful body of water known to history. 
It is the lowest body of water on earth. 
Its surface is 1,300 feet lower than the surface of 
the Mediterranean, though the two seas are only 
sixty-five miles apart. It receives 6,000,000 tons, 
or 20,000,000 cubic feet, of water each day ; and, 
while it has no possible outlet, it never fills up. 
It is no fuller now than it was a thousand years 
ago. This Sea of Death is wonderful for another 
reason. While it is forty-six miles long, thirteen 
miles wide, and while the water is 1,310 feet deep, 
I can walk across it and never get wet above my 
waist ! I walk out into the sea for a mile or 
more — I walk not on the water, but in it. I fold 
my hands across my breast, stretch them out over 
the water, or lock them over my head, as I choose. 
I try to sink and can not. I never felt so much 
like a gourd in all my life. I sit down upon the 



398 THE DEAD SEA. 

water like a feather-bed. When tired I lie down. 
Some men lie when they stand up; but when I 
lie I am prostrated. I lie on the water, roll over, 
kick my feet in the air, — but all my attempts at 
sinking meet with an inglorious failure. Johnson 
says a man who will not sink in clear water must 
be of little weight in the world. Determined to 
make one more effort, I climb to a projecting rock 
from which I plunge head foremost into the sea 
A moment later I am tossed into the air like a 
cork. Again I strike the water, and again re- 
bound. I am, seemingly, about as heavy on the 
stomach of the Dead Sea as Jonah was on the 
stomach of a live whale. He was spewed up — 
so am I. 

Coming up out of the water I find myself com- 
pletely covered with a thin crust of salt. I hardly 
know who I am. Johnson suggests that I may 
be Lot's wife. One thing is sure ; I have a better 
complexion — at any rate I am whiter now than 
ever before. Johnson asks why it is that one can 
not sink in the Dead Sea. The specific gravity 
of the water is very great. This, of course, makes 
the water very buoyant, and renders it impossible 
for one to sink. The extra weight of the water is 
caused by the great amount of salt in the sea. It 
is a much easier matter to swim in the ocean than 
in a running stream, because the former is salt 
and, therefore, buoyant. This is true, 'notwith- 
standing the fact that only four per cent of ocean 
water is salt. Four per cent is enough to make 



THE DEAD SEA 



399 



the ocean very salt and buoyant. But of the 
Dead Sea water twenty-six to twenty-eight per 
cent is salt. It has, therefore, six or six and a 



fhnm&f"MV'^- 




half times as much salt as the same amount of 
ocean water has. Then how great its specific 
gravity! How buoyant its waters! How impos- 
sible to sink! 



4-00 THE DEAD SEA. 

This is sometimes called the "Salt Sea," and, 
while the name is quite brackish, it is not at all 
inappropriate; for, as has been said, "the water 
is a nauseous compound of bitters and Salts." 
When I stiffen myself and stretch out on the 
waters, about half of my person remains above 
the surface. The water produces something of a 
stinging sensation; not severe enough, however, 
to be especially objectionable, unless you should 
chance to get some of it in your eyes. The 
buoyancy of the water makes its navigation both 
difficult and dangerous. Lieut. Lynch, in the 
following lines, gives us a vivid description of his 
experiences on this Sea of Death. 

"A fresh north-west wind was blowing as we 
rounded the point. We endeavored to steer a 
little to the north of west, to make a true west 
course, and threw the patent log overboard to 
measure the distance; but the wind rose so rapid- 
ly that the boats could not keep head to wind, 
and we were oblio-ed to haul the loe in. The sea 
continued to rise with the increasing wind, which 
gradually freshened to a gale, and presented an 
agitated surface of foaming brine ; the spray, evap- 
orating as it fell, left incrustations of salt upon' 
our clothes, our hands and faces; and while it 
conveyed a prickly sensation wherever it touched 
the skin, was, above all, exceedingly painful to the 
eyes. The boats, heavily laden, struggled slug- 
gishly at first; but when the wind freshened in its 
fierceness, from the density of the water, it seemed 



THE DEAD SEA. 4OI 

as if their bows were encountering the sledge- 
hammers of the Titans, instead of the opposing 
waves of an angry sea. The wind blew so fiercely 
that the boats could make no headway, and I 
began to fear that both boats would founder. 
Finding that we were losing every moment, and 
that, with the lapse of each succeeding one, the 
danger increased, kept away for the northern 
shore, in the hope of being yet able to reach it; 
our arms, our clothes and skins coated with a 
greasy salt; and our eyes, lips, and nostrils, smart- 
ing excessively. How different was the scene 
before the submerging of the plain, which was 
'even as the o-arden of the Lord !' 

"But, although the sea had assumed a threaten- 
ing aspect, and the fretted mountains, sharp and 
incinerated, loomed terrific on either side, and 
salt and ashes mingled with its sands, and foetid 
sulphurous springs trickled down its ravines, we 
did not despair: awe-struck, but not terrified; 
fearing the worst, yet hoping for the best, we pre- 
pared to spend a dreary night upon the dreariest 
waste we had ever seen." 

The foreio-n substance in the water Pfives it a 
peculiar appearance at night. Under the influ- 
ence of a full moon, the sea has a strikingly bright 
and beautiful phosphorescent glow. The break- 
ers dashing against the rocks, and beating against 
the shore, look like waves of consuming fire. The 
whole scene resembles a restless, turbulent sea of 
flame vainly trying to devour the very rocks that 



THE DEAD SEA. 403 

mark its limits! Going around the sea next 
morninof, the rock-bound coast, and the bleak 
desolate hills around, look as though they might 
have been scorched with fire the night before. 

In seeking for a satisfactory explanation of 
why this water is so salt, Johnson argues thus: 
"Sodom and Gomorrah once stood at the north 
end of this sea. From here Lot fled with his 
family when the cities were destroyed. On one 
of the surrounding hills Lot's wife was standing, 
when she disobediently looked back and was im- 
mediately turned into a pillar of salt." Johnson 
becomes more and more animated as he contem- 
plates the subject and expresses his views. His 
face is radiant with gladness, and his soul is all 
aglow with emotion, as he closes with this sen- 
tence: "Now, Whittle, since Mrs. Lot was turned 
to a pillar of salt upon one of these hills, we may 
safely account for the present salty condition of 
the water simply by supposing that she has melt- 
ed and run back into the sea." This thought was 
born in Johnson's brain, and he nurses it with all 
the love and passionate fondness that characterize 
the young mother as she tenderly caresses her 
new-born babe. 

It is therefore with sincere reo-ret that I raise 
the golden hammer of truth to break the young 
child's head, but the false theory must die. I say, 
"Johnson, come with me." Going around on the 
east side, not far from the north end, of the Dead 
Sea, we come to a broad shelf of rock, probably 



404 THE DEAD SEA. 

1,000 feet above the water. Arriving at the edge 
of this stone table, and pointing to a colossal 
statue of salt-rock standing on its centre, I say, 
"Johnson, your theory is not true. Mrs. Lot has 
not melted; for, behold, she still stands!" This 
famous pillar is a slender, isolated needle of saltv 
rock, thirty or thirty-five feet high. This, we are 
told, is actually Lot's wife. And I readily see 
how a man with a diseased imagination could 
fancy this a woman ; for, as Professor Palmer 
remarks, "It does really bear a curious resem- 
blance to an Arab woman with a child upon her 
shoulders." The rock lifts itself up solitary and 
alone, something like a giantess, wearing tattered 
o-arments and disheveled hair, while her furrowed 
face is slightly turned over her left shoulder, as 
thouorh she were still lookinof back on the desolate 
plain where the ill-fated cities once stood. 

The Arabs point to this pillar as Lot's wife. 
M. de Saulcy has written very ingeniously to 
prove that it really and truly is Lot's wife. And, 
to do the Frenchman justice, I should add that 
he really did prove it — to his own satisfaction. 
I dare say, however, that he utterly failed to con- 
vince any of his readers. There have been men 
in all the ages who found in this pillar, or some 
other one like it, the veritable Mrs. Lot. Josephus 
relates the Scriptural incident of Lot's wife being 
turned into salt, and then says of the pillar of salt: 
"I have seen it, and it remains to this day." 
Clement of Rome, Irenaeus, and Leland all speak 



THE DEAD SEA. 405 

of Lot's wife Still standing as a pillar of salt. 
One says she still "retains her members entire," 
and another says that as fast as any part of this 
pillar is washed away, it is supernaturally restored. 
That Lot's wife disobeyed God, and was forth- 
with turned into a pillar of salt, I do not doubt. 
That this pillar of salt will ever be located and 
identified, I have no hope. 

Let us again recur to the question, "Why is 
this sea so salt.^" Around the east side and 
southern end of the sea, the whole country seems 
to be composed largely of salt. "The salt hills 
run round for several miles nearly east and west, 
at a height of from three hundred to four hundred 
feet, level atop, and not very broad; the mass 
being a body of rock-salt, capped with a bed of 
gypsum and chalk. Dislocated, shattered, furrow- 
ed into deep clefts by the rains, or standing out 
in narrow, ragged buttresses, they add to the 
weird associations of all around. Here and there, 
harder portions of the salt, withstanding the 
weather while all around them melts and wears 
off, rise up as isolated pillars. In front of the 
ridge, the ground is strewn with lumps and masses 
of salt, through which streamlets of brine run 
across the long muddy flat towards the beach, 
which itself sparkles in the sun with a crust of 
salt, shining as if the earth had been sown with 
diamonds." 

A sea whose bed and beach are salt would 
naturally be brackish, even if it had an outlet. 



406 THE DEAD SEA. 

During the rainy season this sea has probably a 
thousand tributaries, all of which bring in more 
or less salt. It is always receiving salt. Bear in 
mind the fact that this Sea of Death has no out- 
let. All of the water is taken up by evaporation. 
In midsummer the heat around it is fearful to 
contemplate. The rays from the noon-day's sun 
are almost like streams of fire. The heat is 
simply intense. The water vaporizes, is taken up 
into the air, and is there condensed and poured 
out in showers of rain on the parched hills 
around, to revive the vigor of vegetation. As 
Thompson would say, "The clouds pour their 
garnered fullness down." Of course the sun takes 
up only the oxygen and hydrogen, leaving all salt 
and other impurities behind. Hence the sea never 
fills up; hence also the water that is left behind 
is becoming more and more salt as the years 
pass by. 

Just a word about the origin of the Dead Sea. 
It is currently believed, and I think with good 
reason, that at one time there was an unbroken 
body of water, not very deep, extending from the 
southern end of the Dead Sea, up through what is 
now known as the Ghor or valley of the Jordan, 
to the base of Mount Hermon, a distance of some 
two hundred miles. The volcanic fires, which 
were then raging, and the effects of which are still 
to be seen, consumed the material underlying the 
southern end of what was then the vast sea. All 
at once, during the fierce rumblings of an earth- 



THE DEAD SEA, 407 

quake, and the sudden outburst of a volcano, 
there was a tremendous cleaving and lowering of 
the crust of the earth. Thus was formed, it is 
supposed, the great rock-hewn basin, or deep de- 
pression, which we now call the Dead Sea, and 
whose bottom is 4,000 feet lower than the surface 
of the Mediterranean. 

This great natural cavity, forty-six miles long, 
and thirteen miles wide, was so very deep, and 
had such an enormous capacity, that it drank up 
or drained off most of the water that formerly ex- 
tended to the foot of Hermon. So instead of 
one vast sea, two hundred miles in length, as it 
then was, we now have Lake Huleh, the Sea of 
Galilee and the Dead Sea, lying in a straight line, 
directly north and south, the three joined to each 
other by the river Jordan. There are many 
evidences to show that the Jordan valley was 
once covered with water — that it was once the 
bed of a great sea. 

Yes, the Dead Sea was evidently caused by 
some fearful convulsion of nature. It is, indeed, 
a bitter Sea of Death. It is a perpetual emblem 
of God's avenging wrath! No living thing in- 
habits these waters. Not a tree, not a shrub, not 
even a blade of grass, grows on, or near, the beach. 
Here and there crystal rivulets attempt to bring 
life down to the water's edge, but a few hundred 
yards from the sea Death meets Vegetation and 
says: "Hitherto shalt thou come, and no farther." 
The thing that grow nearest to the water's edge 



4o8 THE DEAD SEA. 

is what Is known as the Sodom apple, or Dead 
Sea apple. The bush is about as high as my 
head, the apples grow in clusters. When ripe, 
they are red, and about the size of an apricot or 
a peach. The apple has nothing in it but seed 
and air. It pops when crushed. Hence the old 
saying that it tjrns to ashes on the lips. 

Again I say this sea is a fit emblem of Death. 
Its water is bitter, and destitute of life. It is 
locked in by fire-scorched and storm-beaten rocks. 
Above it are a fierce sun and a brazen sky. 
Silence reigns supreme. As the traveler walks 
around the sea, his shadow is the only moving 
thing he sees. If he chances to be attracted by 
the song of a bird, or by a crow flying over the 
water, it is only that the contrast may make death 
and silence all the more impressive. Here is a 
sea whose hollow fruit is ashes, whose miasmatic 
breath is poison, whose moonlit waves are fire, 
and whose sio-nificant name is Death! 



CHAPTER XXXVI. 

TWO RUSSIAN PILGRIMS, OR A PICTURE OF LIFE. 



A Steep Mountain — Rough Base — Beautiful Summit — Russian Pilgrims — ^Jour- 
ney up Mountain — Life's Hill — Courage in Heart — Marriage Altar — Long Pil- 
grimage — Star of Hope. 



NEAR the north end of the Dead Sea, there 
rises up, towards the west, a mountain steep 
and hiofh. The base of this mountain is 
hideously rough. Chasms and pitfalls are numer- 
ous. Loose rocks and boulders are scattered 
promiscuously around, while thorns, thistles, and 
cactus plants everywhere abound. Higher up the 
mountain there are not so many pitfalls ; the 
rocks and boulders are fewer and smaller, and the 
thorns and thistles are by no means so numerous. 
Here is a sprig of growing grass, and yonder is a 
cluster of opening flowers. Straggling olive trees 
are occasionally seen. In climbing the mountain, 
one finds that the roughness gradually ceases, 
while the grass, flowers and trees gradually in- 
crease respectively in freshness, fragrance and 
foliage. Continuing the ascent, the atmosphere 
becomes purer, the prospect grows broader, and 
the vision is increasingly beautiful. 

Standing in the valley, I see two Russian pil- 
grims, husband and wife, climbing this mountain. 
They are all bowed down beneath the weight of 



4IO TWO RUSSIAN PILGRIMS, OR A PICTURE OF LIFE. 

three score years and ten ; their heads are white 
with the accumulated frosts of seventy winters. 
Their steps are slow and feeble, but on and up 
they go. Now they are side by side; and now 
the husband goes in front to remove, as best he 
can, the rocks and boulders, the thorns and this- 
tles, from his wife's pathway. See, they both 
stop ! What is the matter? They have come to a 
boulder that they can not well surmount. What 
is to be done? The wife puts her hand under the 
husband's elbow, and pushes him up on the rock. 
Then he reaches back, and, catching hold of her 
hand, pulls her up. Again he removes the rocks 
and thorns from the wife's pathway. Again she 
helps him over some rough place, and he draws 
her up after him. Now he goes out to the right 
and left of the path, and plucks flowers for his 
companion. Yonder they stand, high on the 
mountain side, leaning on a rock, and resting 
underneath an olive tree. They enjoy the pure 
air and the wide expanse of vision. They talk 
about the hardships they have undergone, and the 
difficulties they have encountered. They look 
back whence they have come, and then turn their 
faces and their footsteps on towards Jerusalem, 
whither they are going. 

That is a picture of life. That's the hill of life. 
Pilgrims of life are we all. The base of life's hill 
is rough. Rocks and boulders are strewn broad- 
cast. Thorns and thistles grow promiscuously 
around. Numberless traps and pitfalls beset the 



TWO RUSSIAN PILGRIMS, OR A PICTURE OF LIFE. 4II 

way. Many a young man knows all about these 
roygh places in life. His feet have been pricked 
and pierced by the thorns and thistles. Traps, 
have been set for him. Chasms have yawned be- 
fore him, and pitfalls have gaped at his feet. 
The moral atmosphere surrounding him is bad. 
But no weakling he. There is iron in his blood, 
phosphorous in his brain, fire in his bones, and 
courage in his heart. He is a man! He says: 

"The mind I sway by, and the heart I bear, 
Shall never sag with doubt or shake with fear." 

He asks the girl of his choice to wear his name, 
and share his joys and sorrows. They have 
nothing but a firm faith in God, and a loyal love 
for each other. He leads her to Hymen's altar, 
and there the twain are made one. Now they 
start up the hill of life, on the long, long pilgrim- 
age. They walk side by side — 

**Two souls with but a single thought, 
Two hearts that beat as one." 

The way becomes rough. The husband goes in 
front to ward off the danger, to remove rocks and 
boulders, thorns and briers. He does all he can 
to smooth his wife's pathway. Now and then he 
com.es to some formidable obstacle that he can 
not surmount. Here the wife, with her kindly 
counsels, with her sympathy, co-operation and 
prayers, pushes her husband up on the rock. The 
poet says: 



412 TWO RUSSIAN PILGRIMS, OR A PICTURE OF LIFE. 

"Unless above himself he can 
Erect himself, how poor a thing is man !" 

The woman helps the man to "erect himself above 
himself." Then the man, if he be a man, draws 
the woman up to his level. 

As they climb life's hill together, the roughness 
decreases, the way becomes smoother. Instead 
of the thorn, comes up the fir-tree; instead of the 
brier, comes up the myrtle-tree. The moral at- 
mosphere grows purer, and the prospect more 
pleasing. He constantly plucks flowers from the 
garden of the heart, and weaves them into bou- 
quets for his companion. And, as Byron beauti- 
fully says, 

"These flowers of love make glad the garden of life." 

Standing high on life's hillside, they lean on the 
Rock of Ages, and rest under the olive-branch of 
peace. Together they speak of their rough places 
in life, about their sufferings and sorrows, their 
troubles and triumphs. They look back at the 
valley whence they have come, and then turn their 
faces on towards the New Jerusalem, city of the 
soul, to which they are journeying. Their steps 
are growing slow and feeble. They lean on each 
other, and both lean on Christ. They are ap- 
proaching the end of their pilgrimage. The 
shadows of evening are falling long and deep 
around them. Their white locks are streaming 
in the winds of winter. Their latest sun is sinking 
fast; but, sinking, he lights up the Star of Hope, 



TWO RUSSIAN PILGRIMS, OR A PICTURE OF LIFE. 413 

and flines it out like a eiorious chandelier to liorht 
the pilgrims home to glory and to God. Ask me, 
"Is life worth living?" I say, there's the answer. 
That's the poetry of life. That's 

"The unruffled mirror of the lovehest dream 
That ever left the sky on the deep soul to beam." 

Do you say this is an ideal picture.? Well, yes; 
the latter part of it is; but 'tis a fancy resting on 
fact. Besides, 

" The beings of the mind are not of clay ; 
Essentially immortal, they create 
And multiply in us a brighter ray 
And more beloved existence." 



CHAPTER XXXVII. 

FROM JERUSALEM, VIA BETHLEHEM AND THE POOLS 
OF SOLOMON, TO HEBRON. 



Rachel's Tomb — Bethlehem — Ruth and Boaz — David the Shepherd Lad — Cave 
of the Nativity — Pools of Solomon — Royal Gardens — The Home of Abraham — 
Abraham's Oak — Abraham's Mummv. 



FIVE miles south of Jerusalem, there are two 
deep ravines, about a quarter of a mile 
apart, running east and west, and parallel 
to each other. The flat-topped ridge between 
them, which is several hundred feet in altitude, is 
terraced by nature on both sides. The terraces 
are usually about ten feet high, and fourteen feet 
deep. Not content to remain in the valley, the 
ambitious olive climbs from terrace to terrace 
until its ereen foliaore crowns the historic brow of 
the narrow ridge. Yes, historic is the right word. 
On this ridge, Boaz lived; and in yonder broad 
valley at its northern base, Ruth, the Moabitess, 
"gleaned in the wheat fields." Here Jesse lived 
and David played. At the command of God, the 
prophet Samuel came hither and annointed the 
youthful shepherd lad as future king of Israel. 
From here he went forth to fight Fate and For- 
tune, Sin, Saul and Satan. 



FROM JERUSALEM TO HEBRON. 417 

But there is yet another reason why this place 
is historic, "for thus it is written by the prophet: 
And thou, Bethlehem, in the land of Judah, art 
,not the least among the princes of Judah; for out 
of thee shall come a governor that shall rule my 
people, Israel." Caesar's decree brought Joseph 
and Mary to Bethlehem, While they were there, 
God laid Jesus in Mary's arms, and on the world's 
heart. That was a memorable night. The stars 
dropped a bright light, and the angels a sweet 
song, from the skies. The valleys were flooded 
with light, and the hills were vocal with praise. 
Shepherds left their flocks and went in search of 
the new-born babe. The wise men of the East 
mounted their white camels, and were guided 
across the trackless sea of sand by the Star of 
Bethlehem. O, Bethlehem! thou art indeed the 
"house of bread;" and to thee the people of earth 
look for spiritual food. As the nations learn 
wisdom, they follow the example of the wise men 
of the East, and seek thy child. 

At present, Bethlehem has about 5,000 inhab- 
itants, most of whom are Catholics. The chief 
industry of the place is the carving of pearl, wood, 
and bitumen. These cunningly wrought relics are 
sold to tourists from every clime and country. 
All work is done by hand, and with the simplest 
tools; and yet it is curious to see how nearly 
these craftsmen have approximated perfection in 
their art. Carving- is nothinor less than an art with 
them. The town, antique, dilapidated and filthy, 



4iS 



FROM JERUSALEM TO HEBRON. 



though superior to most places In Palestine, is 
built along on top of the ridge from east to west. 




CAVE OF THE NATIVITY. 



The most prominent object in the city is the 
Church of the Nativity which occupies the eastern 
terminus of the ridge. 

This immense structure, v/hich was erected by 



FROM JERUSALEM TO HEBRON. 419 

Helena, the mother of Constantine the Great, Is 
built over a natural grotto in the rock in which it 
is generally believed Jesus was born. The build- 
ing is entered through the west end. The door 
is small and very low; but no knee, I trow, is too 
stiff to bend when entering a place so dear to 
memory, and so closely related to human redemp- 
tion. Once through the door, we straighten our- 
selves and walk slowly across the building. Near 
the east end, we come to a flight of steps which 
leads us down to a rock grotto, called the Cave of 
the Nativity. This is forty by sixteen feet, and 
ten feet hio-h. The cave, no loneer in its natural 
or rude state, is now paved and lined throughout 
with marble, many-colored and costly. Darkness 
is driven out, and the under-ground room is illum- 
inated, by a score and a half of gold and silver 
lamps that are kept perpetually burning. There 
are niches, or recesses, in two of the walls of the 
grotto. In one, there is a silver plate bearing 
this inscription in Latin: "■Here was born of the 
Virgin Mary, Jesus Christ the Savior of the 
Worldr 

In the other niche, there is a golden star, which 
is said to mark the place above which the Star of - 
the East rested when the wise men sought for the 
infant Christ. The feelings that a Christian ex- 
periences, when standing or kneeling in this sacred 
place, can not be translated into words. The 
great deep of his soul is stirred to its profoundest 



4 20 



FROM JERUSALEM TO HEBRON. 



depths; his eyes become safety valves, through 
which the overflow of emotion escapes. 

That Jesus was born in this cave, there is very 





BETHLEHEM. 



little room to doubt. On this point, Dr. Geike 
expresses himself thus: 

"As far back as the middle of the second cen- 



FROM JERUSALEM TO HEBRON. 42 I 

tury — that is to say, within less than 120 years of 
our Lord's death, and within thirty or forty years 
after that of the last of the apostles, the beloved 
St. John — Justin Martyr, himself a man of Nablus, 
speaks of the Savior's birth as having taken place 
'in a certain cave very close to the village;' and 
this particular cave, now honored as the scene of 
the Savior's birth, was already so venerated in the 
days of Hadrian that, to desecrate it, he caused a 
grove sacred to Adonis to be planted over it, so 
that the Syrian god might be worshipped on the 
very spot — a form of idolatry peculiarly abhorrent 
to the pure morals of Christianity. Origen, in 
the opening of the third century, speaks of this 
cave as recognised even by the heathen as the 
birth-place of their Lord. And to this spot came 
St. Jerome, making his home for thirty years in a 
cave close by, that he might be near the birth- 
place of his Master; Hadrian's grove had been 
destroyed sixteen years before his birth, to make 
room for the very church now standing. There 
is no reason therefore so far as I can see, to 
doubt that in this cave, so hallowed by immemo- 
rial veneration, the Great Event associated with 
it actually took place. 

"Nor is there any ground for hesitation because 
it is a cave that is regarded as the sacred spot. 
Nothing is more common in a Palestine village, 
built on a hill, than to use as adjuncts of the 
houses, the caves with which all the limestone 
rocks of the country abound; making them the 



422 FROM JERUSALEM TO HEBRON. t 

Store-room, perhaps, or the work-shop, or the 
stable, and building the dwellings before them so 
as to join the two. Canon Tristram speaks of a 
farm-house he visited, north of Acre, which was a 
granary and stable below and a dwelling-place 
above; and many stables in the neighborhood of 
Bethlehem are still recesses cut in the rock, or 
mere natural caves. In Egypt, I have often seen 
houses where goats, sheep, cattle, or an ass, were 
in one part, and the human beings in the other. 
Had the piety of the monks left the alleged site 
of the Nativity in its original state, there would 
have been no presumption against it from its 
being a cave." 

We go only two miles, after leaving Bethlehem 
for Hebron, before coming to the justly celebrat- 
ed Pools of Solomoji. These are three immense 
reservoirs, situated in a narrow ravine called 
Wady Urtas. This wady passes Bethlehem, and 
finally empties its waters into the Sea of Death. 
The first and smallest of the three pools is situat- 
ed at the head of the valley. It is 380 feet long, 
235 feet wide, and 25 feet deep. 

The second reservoir is about one hundred and 
fifty feet down the valley from the first, and the 
third the same distance below the second. Per- 
pendicularly, the second is twenty feet lower than 
the first, and the third twenty feet lower than the 
second. All three of these pools are walled and 
paved with rock, and cemented. There are broad 
stone steps leading down into each pool. The 



2 % 




424 FROM JERUSALEM TO HEBRON. 

three pools combined would equal a lake six and 
one half acres broad, and thirty-eight feet deep. 

These pools are supplied with water from a 
perennial fountain that bursts forth from the side 
of a hill about two hundred yards northwest of 
the upper pool. From this copious fountain, the 
water is carried to the pools by means of an 
• aqueduct, the same aqueduct, by the way, that 
carries water to Bethlehem and Jerusaleni. The 
most successful and scientific engineers of the 
nineteenth century could suggest but little im- 
provement in these Pools and Aqueducts of Solo- 
mon, which were constructed between three and 
four thousand years ago. 

The road from Jerusalem to Hebron leads di- 
rectly by these pools. Having satisfied our thirst, 
and that of our beasts, let us press on toward 
Hebron, which is eighteen miles south of us. 

The soil and climate of southern Palestine 
seem peculiarly adapted to the cultivation of 
grapes. Of course, the' vine is everywhere to be 
found in this country, but between Bethlehem and 
Beersheba it is cultivated with more care, and 
yields more abundantly, than anywhere else. 

Hebron, more than any other city in the Holy 
Land, is associated with the name of Abraham. 
This was the home of the Father of the Faithful. 
The Arabs call Hebron El Khalil — the friend — 
because Abraham lived here, and was the friend of 
God. This was one of the chief cities of Palestine 
during the Old Testament period; and, though 



425^" FROM JERUSALEM TO HEBRON. 

we hear nothing of it in the New Testament 
times, it has again come into prominence. If 
called on to name five of the largest and most 
prosperous cities in the Holy Land, one could not 
fail to mention Hebron. It has a population of 
ten or twelve thousand souls, about half of whom 
are Hebrews. Some sio-ns of life are here. Traffic 
is not dead in Hebron, as in most portions of the 
country. The villages south, east, and west of 
here do their trading in Hebron. Camels and 
asses are constantly coming in, laden with wine, 
raisins, dates, figs, wool, camels' hair, and goat 
skins. Out of these skins, leather bottles and 
buckets are made. There is also a glass factory 
here which is devoted chiefly to the manufacture 
of colored beads, necklaces, bracelets and other 
articles of female attire. 

Hebron, which is half a mile long, and a quarter 
of a mile wide, is built on the base of a mountain 
which rises 2,000 feet above the upper edge of the 
city. More interest attaches to the mosque than 
to any other object in the place. But Jews and 
Christians are alike excluded from this sacred 
edifice. Because of the regal diadem suspended 
above his brow, the Prince of Wales, was as a 
mark of special honor, allowed to enter this 
Mohammedan Holy of Holies. Dean Stanley 
who was with the Prince of Wales, was also per- 
mitted to tread the sacred court; and from his 
pen has come the most complete and accurate 



FROM JERUSALEM TO HEBRON. 425 

description we have of this mosque, which, some 
writers suppose, was built by Solomon. 

A mile and a half from the city is Abrahams 
Oak. We are told that this is the tree under 
which Abraham entertained the angels. This 
story takes our credulity; but, while we can not 
believe that this tree was here in Abraham's day, 
we must acknowledge its age. It is venerable in 
appearance. It is, indeed, a patriarch of the 
forest. 



CHAPTER XXXVIII. 

FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 



Palestine— Its Situation — Its Dimensions — Its Names — Its Topography — Its Cli- 
mate — Its Seasons — Its Agriculture — Its People — The Pleasure of Traveling 
through Palestine. 



T^ YING between the Dead Sea and the river 
I \ Jordan on the east, and the Mediterranean 
on the west, and extendino- from Mount 
Hermon on the north to the desert of Arabia on 
the south, is a country whose influence has been 
more far-reaching than that of any other country 
on the globe. The influence that this country has 
exerted upon the world is truly remarkable when 
we consider the limited extent of its territory, and 
the previous servile condition of the people who 
made it famous. From the southern end of the 
Dead Sea to Gaza, on the Mediterranean, the 
distance is only sixty-five miles, while it is not 
more than twenty-three miles from the Sea of 
Galilee to Mt. Carmel. The average breadth of 
the country does not exceed forty miles. Dan 
and Beersheba stand respectively for the northern 
and southern limits of Palestine; and these two 
cities are not more than one hundred and sixty- 
five miles apart. 



FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 427 

"The whole area of the land of Palestine," says 
Dr. Robinson, ''does not vary greatly from 12,000 
geographical square miles, — about equal to the 
area of the two states of Massachusetts and Con- 
necticut. Of this whole area, more than one-half, 
or 7,000 square miles, being by far the most im- 
portant portion, lies on the west of the Jordan." 

This small land, inhabited by a feeble folk, who 
for four hundred years had their necks galled by 
the yoke of Egyptian bondage, has given to the 
world a Church, a Creed, and a Christ! The 
Church has carried the Creed into every land 
under every sky. The Christ of Palestine has 
become the Christ of the world; and wherever He 
is enthroned idols fall and nations bow. 

Small is the country, but important is the geo- 
graphical position. It has been called "the very 
out-post on the extreme western edge of the East, 
pushed forward, as it were, by the huge continent 
of Asia." Cut off from Asia by the desert, and 
from Europe by the sea, Palestine stands alone. 
And yet it was the door through which Asiatic 
and European nations had to pass in order to 
visit, trade with, or fight each other. There was 
a constant stream of commerce flowino" throuorh 
the country. Hostile armies frequently met upon 
her hillsides, and watered her fertile valleys with 
each other's blood. It was therefore of the very 
greatest importance as a strategical point. Thus, 
by their unique geographical position, the inhabi- 
tants of Palestine could, by staying at home, weild 



428 FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 

a most powerful influence upon the people of 
Europe, Asia and Africa. 

Again, close study reveals the fact that Pales- 
tine is as unique zvithifi itself as it is in relation 
to other countries. Within this small area, the 
antipodes are brought together — the extremes of 
earth meet. Palestine is a little world within 
itself. In the valley of the Jordan there is per- 
petual summer; and, consequently, tropical fruits, 
a profusion of flowers, and a great variety of birds 
and wild beasts are found. Only a few miles 
away. Mount Hermon rises into the region of per- 
petual snow. There the bear, and other animals 
natural to a cold climate, take up their abode. 
Palestine has its highlands and lowlands; its hill 
country and valleys; its fertile plains and barren 
deserts; its oceans, rivers and lakes; its fresh 
water and salt; its flowing rivers and Dead Sea. 
Within these narrow limits, therefore, is found 
every variety of climate, soil and production, of 
habit and occupation, of bird and beast. 

We can see the wisdom, therefore, that God 
displayed in selecting this as the home of His 
chosen people. Here they were to live and learn; 
here they were to mould national character, and 
influence adjacent peoples ; here they were to com- 
mune with God, and write that Book which was 
to be read on land and water, by fishermen and 
farmers, by travelers on the desert and sailors on 
the sea. Whether chilled by polar snows, or 
scorched by tropical suns, we can all read that 



FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 429 

blessed Book with interest, pleasure and profit, 
and feel at home with the writer. 

This wonderful country, is known by three 
names. The first is Palestine from Palestina, the 
land of the Philistines, literally, "the land of 
the strangers, or of wanderers." Originally, this 
name was applied only to that part of the country 
known as the marine plain, say from Jaffa to 
Gaza, as that was pre-eminently the land of the 
Philistines. Gradually, however, the word Pales- 
tine was accepted as the name of the whole 
country. 

Canaan, or the Land of Canaan, is a second 
name given to this particular country. Canaan 
signifies "the low land," or "the low country," as 
opposed to the "land of Gilead," that is, the high 
table-land the east of Jordan. It may at first 
seem strange that a country so hilly and rough as 
this should be called "the low land"; but it should 
be borne in mind that the hills are a kind of a 
mountain-chain running through the country from 
north to south. Approaching the country from 
the west, one is greatly impressed with the low, 
broad, level marine plain which begins at Mt. 
Carmel and extends far south of Gaza, getting 
broader and broader towards the south. On 
entering Palestine from the east, one is even more 
impressed with the low valley, or deep ghor, of 
the Jordan. 

But no name seems so appropriate for this 
country as "the Holy Land'' No explanation is 



430 FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 

necessary; everyone understands the reason for, 
and recognizes the appropriateness of, this ap- 
pellation. 

Enough has been said, even in this chapter, to 
give one some idea of the topography of the Holy 
Land. Imagine a broad, level country one hun- 
dred and sixty-five miles long, sixty miles wide at 
one end, and twenty at the other. On one side 
this country is bounded by a sea, and on the 
other by a river. Now imagine that you build a 
house through the centre of this long, narrow 
country from one end to the other. Let the roof 
come down to the ofround on either side of the 
house, leaving a broad plateau on either side, that 
is, a wide valley between where the roof comes 
to the ground and the borders of the country. 
From the top of the house, or mountain ridge, to 
the Mediterranean is 3,000 feet, while from its top 
to the Jordan or Dead Sea is 4,000 feet. This 
gives an approximately correct idea of Palestine. 
But no one must for a moment suppose the 
mountain rido-e to be reo-ular like the comb of a 
house, or its sides smooth like a roof. From the 
central ridge, a succession of peaks rise up to var- 
ious heights. Beginning at the south, the peaks 
are Hebron, 3,029 feet above the Mediterranean; 
Jerusalem, 2,610, and Mount of Olives, 2,724, 
Bethel, 2,400; Ebal and Gerazim, 2,700; "little 
Hermon" and Tabor (on the north side of the 
plain of Esdraelon) 2,000; Safed, 2,775, ^^^ Jebel 
Jurmuk, 4,000. To find the elevation of any of 



FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 43 I 

these peaks above the Dead Sea, just add 1,300 
feet to the height already given. These several 
peaks mentioned are just about the centre of the 
country from east to west. Sometimes the cen- 
tral ridge is level on top, and we find a broad, 
elevated table-land. 

During the rainy season, which usually begins 
with November and ends with March, a great 
deal of water falls upon this mountain ridge. It 
can not stay there, so, rolling itself up into tor- 
rents, it courses down the steep sides- with great 
swiftness. This has continued for thousands of 
years, until now the ridge on both sides is seamed, 
threaded, cut, worn and ditched by these torrents 
into almost every conceivable shape. The wadys 
and ravines are not far apart, and are frequently 
quite deep. So all through Palestine there are a 
succession of ravines, running from east to west, 
with rocky ridges steep and high between them. 

One would naturally suppose that a country 
like this would be barren and worthless; but not 
so with Palestine. These mountain ridees are 
of a lime-stone formation. In the summer, the 
climate is exceedingly oppressive; the rays of the 
sun are almost like streams of fire. The ther- 
mometer rises in the day to 126 or 128 degrees. 
The nights, even in mid summer, are cool and 
pleasant. At noon day the mercury registers 128 
degrees, and at night it falls to forty and forty-five 
degrees. In the day, when the lime-stone rocks 
become heated, they expand; and at night, when 



432 FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 

cooled, they contract. They continue to expand 
and contract until after awhile they fall to pieces — 
disintegration takes place. This begets a great 
quantity of finely pulverized lime-stone dust, which 
is extremely rich and fertilizing. Nature, with 
her ever watchful care, has so arranged these hills 
as to enable them to catch, retain, and appropriate 
most of this fertilizing dust. The hills are natu- 
rally terraced. From base to summit we see one 
terrace rising above another. They look like 
huge steps placed there to enable giants to as- 
cend. If the people would only build up the 
defective places in these terraces, they would 
catch practically all of the dust caused by the 
decaying rocks, and the country would become 
richer and richer as the years pass by. 

Palestine is still the "land of the vine and fie- 
tree." Every hillside is garnished over with olive 
trees, as also with figs, dates, palms, and pome- 
granates. The decaying rocks feed the hungry 
trees they bear. This suggests a very important 
question: What do the people of Palestine live 
on? Now, as in Joshua's time, "the tree of the 
field is man's life" (Deut. 20:19). The people 
live largely on fruits. Olives, especially, are the 
salvation of that country. The people here eat 
the olive as we eat peaches. They also pickle 
them; but the olive is chiefly valuable for the 
excellent oil it yields. Olive oil is the only 
seasoning these people have. Figs and dates are 
likewise plentiful at all seasons of the year, in one 



FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 433 

form or another. The grapes of the Holy Land 
are especially fine. They are abundant in quan- 
tity, large in size, and deliciously flavored. There 
is a grape here that makes very fine raisins, and 
another that yields a superior quality of wine. 
Wine here is usually mild. It is also plentiful, 
and is used freely. 

There are many valleys in this country that are 
as rich and fertile as the alluvial deposits of the 
Nile. Such, for instance, is the plain of Esdrae- 
lon and the valley around Lake Huleh. These 
garden spots are annually sown in wheat. To be 
sure, the yield is not large. We can not expect it 
to be large when we remember that these sons of 
idleness use the same rude implements of agri- 
culture that their fathers used three thousand 
years ago. A camel, or a yoke of oxen, a forked 
stick, and a half-naked Arab, make a first class 
plow team for Palestine. 

The fact that these people are primitive in their 
mode and manner of life, makes it all the more 
delightful to the equestrian pilgrims to be here. 
The student of history, especially of sacred his- 
tory, finds the same pleasure in traveling through 
the Holy Land that a miner does in traversing a 
rich gold field. The shining dust glittering in the 
light of the sun stirs every faculty of his being; 
and now and then, when he finds a nugget of 
the precious metal, his soul is all aglow with 
emotion. 

Palestine is more than a gold mine, it is a 



434 FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 

diamond field, to the student of Biblical history. 
New truths are constantly discovered, and old 
ones are seen in a new light. Each additional ray 
gives more beauty, and adds new lustre, to the 
already resplendent gem. 

To those who like novelty, and love Nature, 
nothing can be more interesting than "tent life in 
the East." Here one is introduced into a world 
of novelties. True, the country is old; but its 
very age becomes a novelty. The mountains, 
though shorn of their pristine beauty, though 
"rock-ribbed, and ancient as the sun," have an 
interest all their own. If the valleys were lakes, 
and the hills clothed with verdure, Syria would 
be only a repetition of the highlands of Scotland.. 
If the purple hills of Judea towered to the skies, 
if they were covered with snow, and studded with 
waving forest trees, the Palestine world would be 
another Switzerland. If these people were Chris- 
tianized, civilized, and cultivated, they would differ 
but little from Europeans and Americans. 

But such is not the case. The lakes were never 
here, and the primeval forests disappeared a thou- 
sand years ago. Here the snow scarcely ever 
falls, and the mountains are only hills, Hermon 
and Tabor being the only exceptions. As for the 
people, they are mostly Mohammedans and Jews. 
Many of them never heard of Christ, nor do they 
want to hear of Him. Nineteen-twentieths of 
them are so illiterate that, if they were to see a 
daily news-paper printed in their own language, 



FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 435 

they could not read it. Not one in fifty could 
write his name on paper if it would save his neck 
from the halter. 

Nor is this all. The followingf sentence is as 
applicable as if it had been written with special 
reference to this special country: "A land without 
ruins is a land without memories; a land without 
memories is a land without history. But twine a 
few sad cypress leaves around the brow of any 
land, and, be that land bleak, barren, and beauti- 
less, it becomes lovely in its consecrated coronet 
of sorrow." Palestine is a land of ruins. It is 
strewn with ruins from one end to the other. 
How could it be otherwise.^^ Has it not been the 
battle-ground of the nations. Did not Belshazzer 
come hither from Babylon and Cyrus from Persia.? 
Did not Alexander come from Greece and Hanni- 
bal from Carthage.'* How often did the Ptolemies 
of Egypt, and the Caesars of Rome, march their 
devastating legions through this fair land.? Think, 
too, of those brave knights of the eleventh and 
twelfth centuries, who fouo-ht as never men foug-ht 
before, trying to wrench this Holy Land from the 
iron grasp of the Saracen and Moslem. That 
was the darkest and bloodiest period of this 
world's history. This was the scene of action. 
The very dust is historic. Every tree has heard 
the tramp of armies, and felt the shock of battle. 
Every stone has a tale to tell. In every com- 
munity there are stories many, and legends not a 
few, Yes, Palestine is a "land of ruins." It has 



43^ FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 

not a "few," but many "sad cypress leaves twined 
around its brow." And, truly, it has become 
"lovely in its consecrated coronet of sorrow." 

And more. All history is interesting, yet 
"crosses and crucifixions take the deepest hold on 
the hearts of men." The word Palestine is in- 
separably associated with that "name which is 
above every name." Here Christ was born; here 
he lived; among the ancestors of these people he 
"went about doinof o-ood." In these waters He 
was baptized; these hills were the pulpits from 
which he preached His own everlasting gospel; 
while the stones of the valley, the birds of the air, 
and the lilies of the field, furnished Him with apt 
illustrations to explain and enforce divine truth. 
So in this Holy Land there are "memories which 
make it holier, and a cross which is even in itself 
an immortality ! " 

Hence I ask, "can any one who likes novelty, 
and loves nature, who appreciates history, and 
worships the Lord Jesus Christ, who has a head 
on him, and a heart in him, fail to enjoy tent life 
in the East," or "five hundred miles in the saddle 
through Palestine and Syria.?" If any, speak; 
for him have I offended. Not one; then none 
have I offended. So let us be up and going, 
taking a different route, and moving more rapidly 
this time than before. 

There were five in the original party, but I 
gladly welcome the reader into our midst, saying 
to him, "Come thou and go with us and be as eyes 



FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 437 

unto us, and we will do thee good." Yes, "be as 
eyes unto us." We need some one to point out the 
road, as much so as Moses did when he addressed 
this language to his gray-headed father-in-law. 
Indeed there are no roads in this part of Asia, 
only dim bridle paths such as have been worn in 
the rock by constant use for ages. Very few of 
these people ever saw a wheeled vehicle of any 
kind. Excepting four towns, there is not a buggy, 
or a wagon, or even a wheel-barrow, in all Pales- 
tine and Syria. There are no roads for them nor 
for us. Hence we must travel on horse-back. 
Now that the reader has joined us, we are six in 
number. Making calculations for the new comer, 
we have eight tents, eighteen servants and mule- 
teers, and thirty-six head of horses, mules, and 
donkeys. Of course, the mules and donkeys are 
laden with tents and trunks, and beds and bag- 
gage, and other things, for our comfort and con- 
venience, and their own board besides. They 
look like young elephants with all this luggage on 
their backs. Each of us has a riding suit, a 
broad-brimmed hat, and a white umbrella. 

While we eat breakfast in the morning, the 
muleteers fold the tents and get things ready for 
the road. Now Tolhamy, our Syrian dragoman, 
mounts his Arabian steed and cries out, " Yal-la, 
yal-la," which means come on, come on. We 
follow suit, and soon all are strung out across the 
country like a band of wild Indians. The pro- 
cession is half a mile lono-. For a while the 



FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 439 

pilgrims ride up and down the line, singing and 
talking with the natives; then, plying, the whip, 
they leave the caravan behind. At noon, Abdo, 
our Arab waiter, stretches the lunch tent, or 
speads the carpet under the grateful shade of an 
olive grove. Lunch being over, we sit for an 
hour or two reading the Bible and profane his- 
tory, talking about the battles fought in this 
neighborhood, about what Christ and His apostles 
did here, and about the contusion their miracles 
and teaching must have caused among these 
people. And, whether we lunched on Mt. Tabor, 
whose heights are crowned with the ruins of a 
crusader's church, and at whose base Barak and 
Deborah met Sisera in battle (Ju. 4: 14 and 15); 
or at Endor where Saul called up the witch (i 
Sam. 28); or at Joseph's pit, from which he was 
sold into Egypt (Gen. 27: 24-28): or at the 
spring where Gideon's brave band of three hun- 
dred lapped before going against the Midianites 
(Ju. 7): or at Cana, where our blessed Lord 
turned water into wine (John 2: i-ii); or at 
Nain, where He raised the man who was the only 
son of a widowed mother (Luke 7 : 1 1 -i 7) ; or at 
Jacob's well, where He sat and told the woman all 
things that ever she did (John 4: 6-26); whether 
we lunch at one of these places, or the other, or 
wherever we stop, we have a Bible in one hand, 
and a history in the other, and always find enough 
to interest and instruct us. 

While we are resting, reading and talking, the 



440 FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 

caravan passes by; so, when we come to the camp 
in the evening, our tents are up ready to receive 
us. We usually camp near a village, so as to get 
water and to place ourselves under the protection 
of the Sheik of the villagre. As soon as our tents 
are pitched, the village is deserted — its half-naked, 
filthy, and ignorant population having gathered 
round our camp. 

Supper being over, the muleteers, together with 
the villagers, give some kind of an entertainment. 
One night they have a marriage ceremony, then 
an assessment and collection of taxes, an Arabic 
tableau, or musical concert, without the music. 
There is no music in an Arab's soul ! By this 
we are on good terms with the natives; we go. 
home with them, go into their houses, talk with 
them, find out how they live, what they think 
about, so on. It is very seldom that we find a 
family of five to eight occupying more than one 
room, and often the goats, dogs and donkeys live 
in the same room with the other part of the 
family. 

The people have no tables, no chairs, no bed- 
steads. They sit on mats, and sleep on pallets of 
straw. Whole families, sometimes ten to twelve in 
number, eat out of the same bowl or pan. Knives 
and forks are unknown. They live chiefly on 
bread and fruits. Olives, figs and grapes are the 
salvation of this country. The yield of olive oil 
has been greater this year than usual, I spoke a 
moment ago of an Asiatic village; but I am per- 



RROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 44 1 

suaded that it deserves more than a mere mention. 
I speak of the average village. It consists of a 
hive of rough, rock huts one story, say six or 
seven feet, high, circular, oblong, or triangular in 
shape. The same low, flat roof frequently extends 
over half or three-fourths of the town. There are 
covered streets and lanes, winding around and 
among the houses. A former traveler, whose 
book a friend has just handed me, writes as 
follows: 

"A Syrian village is the sorriest sight one can 
fancy. When you ride through one of them at 
noonday, you first meet a melancholy dog that 
looks up at you and silently begs that you will 
not run over him, but he does not offer to get out 
of your way. Next you meet a young boy without 
any clothes on; and he holds out his hand and 
says, 'bucksheesh ;' but he really does not expect 
a cent, for he learned to say that before he learned 
to say 'mother,' and he can not break himself of 
it. Next you meet a woman with a black veil 
drawn over her face, and her bust exposed. Fin- 
ally, you meet several sore-eyed children, and 
children in all stages of mutilation and decay; 
and, sitting humbly in the dust, and all fringed 
with filthy rags, is a poor human ruin whose arms 
and legs are gnarled and twisted like grape vines. 
These are all the people you are likely to see. 
The balance of the population are asleep indoors, 
or abroad, tending goats on the plains and on the 
hillsides." 



442 FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 

If it is a little cold and damp, we gather around 
the camp fire at night, and watch the glowing 
flames as they crackle and leap into the air, and 
flinof their wild and weird shadows rieht and left. 
Ah! what an artist these flames are. With one 
bold stroke, they draw the outlines of a perfect 
picture on the black canvas of night. 

When it is clear and pleasant, as it usually is, 
we go out in front of the tents, and talk and sing 
and "consider the heavens." And often, "as I sit 
and gaze into the silent sky at night, and see the 
myriad stars, they seem like camp fires, kindled 
upon the plains of heaven, to light some wanderer 
over the wastes and desolations of earth." 

It may be wrong, I suppose it is, but somehow 
I envy the astronomer the pleasure he has in 
reading the thoughts of God, as written in the 
lanofuaofe of the stars. I wonder if the stars are 
inhabited; if so, by men or angels.? What be- 
comes of these creatures when a star "falls.?" Dr. 
Broadus would say that this is a good subject for 
a public debate, as it can never be determined. 

At ten o'clock, when the others retire to rest, I 
take up my pen to record what has transpired 
during the day. Often the swift footed hours 
pass by before I know it, and I find myself writ- 
ing on "the other side of midnio-ht." But I can 
not help it. In Palestine there is so much to see 
and think about that one can not afford to sleep 
more than five hours out of the twenty -four. 
When at last my eyes grow heavy, I drop my 



FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 443 

leaden pen and fall asleep; and often I dream 
about the objects and places I have seen during 
the day. 

At six, often at five, o'clock, I am up to hear the 
morning warbler's first hymn of praise. I find 
that morning, rosy-fingered now as in the days of 
Homer, "has yet a new and distant smile at every 
rising." Payne has well said that "no true lover 
ever yet trysted with Nature in her own woods, 
and by her own fountains, without seeing some 
new beauty never seen before." 

We have been in this country now for months. 
We have been many weeks on horseback. We 
have made more than six hundred miles in the 
saddle through Palestine and Syria, and yet it has 
not become monotonous. Indeed, it grows on us; 
there is a fascination about it. Each day is differ- 
ent from the day before. The roads are different, 
the people are different, the scenery is not the 
same. New historical interests, new biblical char- 
acters and sacred associations are hourly coming 
up for conversation and tho,ught. Josephus is no 
longer dry and prosy. You read "Ben Hur," and 
"The Prince of the House of David," with more 
interest than ever before; last, and greatest, the 
Bible — the Bible becomes a new book to you. 
Its pages are brighter, its truths simpler, and its 
Christ is more personal and real to you, than 
before you came here. Palestine is a relief map 
of the Bible. In our western world, a man may 
be honestly skeptical ; but, if he comes to Palestine 



444 FROM DAN TO BEERSHEBA. 

as an earnest seeker after truth, he will soon dis- 
miss all doubt, and, like Thomas of old, cry out: 
"My Lord, and my God!" 



CHAPTER XXXIX. 

JERUSALEM. 



Approaching Jerusalem — Coming Events — Dreams — Light Breaks In — Serenade 
— Zion, the City of God — Prayers Answered — Gratitude — A Vision of Peace — 
Blighted Fig-Tree — Still a Holy City — Prominence of Jerusahm — Its In- 
fluence among the Nations — A Melted Heart — Tents Pitched — Walk About 
Zion — Situation of the City — Its Walls— Its Gates — Afraid of Christ — Cross- 
ing the Kedron — Tomb of Virgin Mary — Gethsemane — What it Means, What 
it Is, and How it Looks — Superstitious Monies — Jerusalem Viewed from the 
Mount of Olives — Architecture of the City — Prominent Objects — Entering the 
City — Its Streets — Its Population — Jewish Theologues — Remaining Portion 
of Solomon's Temple — " Wailing Place " of the Jews — Kissing the Wall — 
Weeping Aloud — Fulfillment of Prophecy — Only Orie Conclusion. 



TO-MORROW the equestrian pilgrims will 
pitch their tents on the holy hill of Zion. 
It will be a time of rejoicing. I think that 
each one of the party will put down in his diary. 
"This is the happiest day of my life." 

The nearer we come to our journey's end, the 
more intense becomes the excitement. The night 
before reaching the city, our tents are pitched in 
a valley. "Coming events" have already begun 
to "cast their shadows before them." Each one 
of the company is excited; each one filled with 
life, hope, and anticipation. We all sing: "I'm a 
pilgrim; I'm a stranger; this world is not my 
home," "I seek a city whose builder and maker is 
God," and "Oh, Jerusalem, Jerusalem, my happy, 
happy home." At length, "weariness spreads her 



446 JERUSALEM. 

everwelcome couch," and we fall asleep. Some 
of us dream that Jerusalem is a "golden city." 

The leaden-footed hours of the night pass by. 
About five o'clock in the morning, 

"Light breaks in upon my brain. 
'Tis the carol of a bird — 
The sweetest ?ong ear ever heani. 
And mine are so thankful 
That my eyes run over with glad surprise." 

It is a nightingale, the queen of songsters. Perch- 
ed on a swaying limb, not far away, she flings her 
merry notes into the sleeper's tent. The little 
warbler sings as if the heart of melody has been 
broken on her tuneful tongue. Methinks it is the 
sweetest song ever wafted to human ears on the 
perfumed breezes of the night. It reminds one 
of the time when the angel host sang to the 
shepherds on the plains of Bethlehem. I can not 
sleep. The morning star has dropped such a 
bright light from the sky that it looks like day. 

The pilgrims are up early enough to see the 
stars, one by one, fade away. The sun rises clear 
and bright above the eastern hills, and flings his 
rays of light across a cloudless sky. 

We are oft' earlier than usual. At ten o'clock 
we ascend the brow of a hill, and "Zion, the city 
of God," bursts full upon our vision ! Every horse 
is stopped. Every head is uncovered. Not a 
word is spoken. I can never forget the flood of 
"sweetly solemn thoughts" that comes to me 



JERUSALEM. 447 

during the calm of this holy hour. Oh! the thrill 
of joy that goes through the soul of man when 
he finds his prayers answered; when he realizes 
that the toil and sacrifice of years have not been 
in vain; when he sees the bud of hope ripen into 
golden fruit! Only one person on this earth 
knows what it cost me to come here. Would you 
calculate the cost in money? As well undertake 
to fathom the ocean with a fishing cord, or to 
count the stars of heaven on your fingers and 

toes! It cost !! But I forget all that, 

when I behold Jerusalem, "The city of the great 
King, beautiful for situation, the joy of the whole 
earth." 

The Hebrew word, Jerusalem, probably means 
"vision of peace," and I have no doubt but that in 
olden times the beauty of the city and the sur- 
rounding country fully justified the name. It was 
then "the joy of the whole earth;" but the Lord 
hath covered the daughter of Zion with a cloud, 
in his anger, and cast down, from heaven unto the 
earth, the beauty of Israel. Jerusalem is withered, 
like its emblem, the blighted fig-tree. Itvv'-as once 
a monument of the goodness, now of the severity, 
of God. The city has been twenty-seven times 
besieged, often taken, pillaged, and burnt. Oc- 
casionally the very ground has been plowed up! 
And yet "it is good to be here" — it is still a holy 
city. Mount Moriah has not been removed, Cal- 
vary is still on its base, and the Mount of Olives 



JERUSALEM. 449 

is now just as it was when from it our blessed 
Lord "was received up into heaven." 

It has been said, and truthfully, too, that Jeru- 
salem has occupied a more prominent place in 
history than Athens, with all its arts, or Rome, 
with all its arms; than Nineveh, with all its over- 
grown power, or Babylon, with all its nameless 
abominations. Jerusalem has done more to mould 
the opinions, to animate the hopes, to decide the 
creeds, and to influence the destinies, of humanity 
than all other cities combined. Here Solomon 
reigned. Here David sang, and Isaiah prophesied. 
Here Christ the Lord lived, and taught us how to 
live. Here, too, he was nailed to the tree, there 
to die, "the Just for the unjust." 

Mrs. Watson, an earnest, devout. Christian lady 
from Detroit, is a member of our party. As we 
stand upon this hill and look upon Jerusalem for 
the first time, she is completely overcome. Her 
heart has melted within her, and is flowing freely 
through her eyes. She weeps like a child, and 
her tears do credit to her heart. 

We camp in a beautiful olive grove on the 
north side of the city. Our mail is soon brought. 
After devouring letters, newspapers, and a hearty 
lunch, I say to the party: "'Walk about Zion; go 
round about her; tell the towers thereof; mark 
ye well her bulwarks; consider her palaces, — that 
ye may tell it to' your friends in America." With 
Bible in hand, with prayer and praise in our heart, 
we are now ready to begin our "walk about Zion." 



JERUSALEM. 45 1 

It takes four eyes or more to see the beauty of a 
picture, and four ears or more to extract the 
melody from music. I shall therefore ask the 
reader to join us in this walk about the "city of 
the o-reat kine." 

We find the city perched, like an eagle's nest, 
among the hills of Judea. "As the mountains are 
round about Jerusalem, so the Lord is round 
about them that fear him." It stands 2,650 feet 
above the level of the Mediterranean, and 3,800 
feet above the Dead Sea, Imagine two ravines, 
deep and narrow, coming together so that the 
tableland between them forms the letter V, the 
sharp point of the letter being to the south, while 
the open part extends northward. Jerusalem is 
built on such a V, though it does not run down 
into the sharp point of the letter. The ravine, or 
brook, on the east is Kedron, that on the west is 
Hinnom. We find the city surrounded on all 
sides by massive walls of stone, rising forty to 
sixty feet above the ground. The east and west 
walls run close alonof the edee of the chasms, so 
that, coming up out of the valley to either one of 
them, one would find it steep and difficult. The 
south wall cuts off the sharp part of the V. The 
north wall is much stronger than any of the 
others, because that part of the city is not pro- 
tected by ravines, as are the other three sides. 

We have now completed the circuit around the 
walls of Zion, and in so doino- we have walked 
two and a half miles, and compassed an area of 



452 JERUSALEM. 

two hundred and nine acres of land. These walls, 
some portions of which probably date from the 
time of our Lord, are pierced by four gates; the 
Damascus gate, on the north; Stephen's gate, on 
the east; on the south is the Zion, and on the 
west, the Jaffa gate. Each one of these gates is 
guarded day and night by Turkish soldiers. 

Until recently there was another entrance to 
the city — the Golden gate. This "gate-way of 
glory" entered the sacred enclosure from the east. 
It was through this, supposedly, that our blessed 
Lord made His triumphal entry into the Holy 
City. This gate, a work of art, has been closed 
up. And why.? Because the Mohammedans fear 
Christ. The Jews say that He is soon to come 
out of the East, across the Mount of Olives, 
through the Golden gate, into the Mosque of 
Omar. Then He will overthrow the Mohamme- 
dan government, proclaim himself king of the 
Jews, and, subsequently, of the world. These 
Jewish prophecies have aroused dread suspicions 
in the Mohammedan mind, and to keep Christ 
out of the city, the devotees of the false prophet 
have actually barred up the gate with great §tones. 
These are fastened together with bolts and bars 
of iron, steel, and brass. I am told that the 
Mohammedans, especially during Jewish feasts, 
even station guards at the Golden gate to prevent 
the Messiah from entering the city. 

I am rejoiced to know that I worship a Christ 
who, when His time is fulfilled, will come. But, 



JERUSALEM. 453 

blessed be His name, He will come no more as 
the Babe of Bethlehem; no more as the lowly 
Na'zarene; no more as the despised and rejected 
of men. He will come as the glorified Son of 
God, as Judge of all the earth. He will come 
crowned and sceptred ; robed in splendor; seated 
upon the clouds, as a chariot of fire drawn by 
angels of light. It was He of whom it was said: 
"He openeth, and no man shutteth; he shutteth, 
and no man openeth." So, why need they try to 
keep your Lord and mine out of His own city.-' 

Before entering the gates, it will be well for us 
to cross the brook Kedron, go over to the Mount 
of Olives, and from there get a bird's eye view of 
the holy city. On the left, just after crossing the 
Kedron, we come to the so-called tomb of the 
Virgin Mary, over which has been built a Catholic 
cathedral. In the cathedral, and around this 
tomb, many candles and lamps are kept burning 
day and night. By the flickering flame of these 
tapers, turbaned monks constantly count their 
beads and swing their censers. A hundred yards 
down the valley, to the right, are the tombs of 
Absalom, James, and Hezekiah. 

From base to summit, the Mount of Olives is 
garnished over with olive trees. Now, as through 
past ages, the olives are gathered and poured into 
a rock-hewn vat in the mountain side. The vat 
before me is well filled. In it are an old, gray- 
bearded man and a sprightly young maiden, walk- 
ing round and round, side by side, treading the 



454 JERUSALEM. 

olives with their bare feet, pressing out the oil. 
This is rather a homely sight, but it suggests a 
holy name. A name around which cluster many 
tender and sacred associations. The word, Geth- 
semane, means oil-press. Lifting my eyes from 
the vat, I behold, about half way up the mountain 
side, and a hundred yards to the right of the road, 
the garden of Gethsemane, or the garden of the 
oil-press. 

This garden of prayer is at present surrounded 
by a substantial rock wall ten or twelve feet high. 
The entrance is through the upper or eastern 
wall. The door, or gate, is scarcely three feet 
hio-h; but one is willino- to bow and humble him- 
self on entering a garden so filled with holy 
memories. Here Christ suffered and agonized 
and prayed until "his sweat was, as it were, great 
drops of blood falling to the ground." Here 
Judas betrayed the Master with a kiss. This 
garden, which is 150 by 160 feet, is laid out in six 
large flower beds, beautifully designed and well 
kept. There are a dozen, or more of fir and olive 
trees enclosed within these walls. 

The superstitious monks, keeping the garden, 
assure us that these are the identical trees under 
which the Lord knelt and prayed. But my in- 
credulous mind entertains serious doubts on this 
subject. In the first place, we are not sure that 
the present garden is identical with the one that 
our Lord frequented. We know, however, if the 
two are not identical, they certainly are not far 



JERUSALEM. 



455 



removed from each other. Ever since the days 
of Constantine (330, A. D.). the present garden 




has been recognized as the place of agony and 
betrayal. 

I grant that our Lord was betrayed In this 



456 JERUSALEM 

garden, or another, probably not a stone's throw 
from it. I grant, also, that the olive trees are 
■^■emarkably long-lived, and that these within this 
f:nclosure stand like patriarchs of their race, like 
sentinels of the centuries past and gone. But 
Josephus tells us that during the siege of Jerusa- 
lem by Titus (A. D. yo), the Roman soldiers cut 
down all of the trees around about Jerusalem, 
[osephus was present during this siege. He wrote 
from personal knowledge. And we can not ac- 
cept his statements without discrediting those of 
the papal priests. But what care I? I pin my 
faith to no rock, nor hang it upon the bough of 
any olive tree. Somewhere on' this mountain 
side, probably near where I stand, the blessed 
Lord drank the bitter cup. That is enough for me. 

Bear in mind the fact that we are on the eastern 
side of Jerusalem. We find the summit of Olivet 
crowned with a large Russian convent. We go 
up on the top of this convent. With our backs 
toward Jerusalem, and our eyes toward the rising 
sun, we look down upon the Dead Sea, 4,000 feet 
below us, and in a straight line, only eighteen 
miles away. The valley of the Jordan is plainly 
seen, but its waters are not visible. 

"About face." We are now looking down on 
the "City of David." I say "down," because the 
Mount of Olives is two hundred feet higher than 
Jerusalem, and the convent gives us an additional 
elevation of fifty feet. Jerusalem is now spread 
out before us like a map; and, although it is 



JERUSALEM 457 

three-fourths of a mile away, the atmosphere is so 
pure that we can see it as plainly as if we were 
standing on a tower in the midst of the city. It 
is built on two hills, Mt. Zion and Mt. Moriah, 
the former being a little to the west of, and a 
few feet higher than, the latter. The intervening 
valley, once very deep, is now so nearly filled up 
that the two hills are practically one. 

There is little variety about the architecture of 
Jerusalem. The houses, generally, are built of 
white stone, and are usually ten or twelve feef 
high, with flat, stone roofs. Frequently one root 
extends over many houses. So, when viewed 
from the Mount of Olives, Jerusalem has the ap- 
pearance of a broad sea of low level, white roofs. 
The monotony is relieved by five distinct objects 
that lift themselves up above the surface and 
stand out in bold relief 

These five objects of prominence are, first, the 
Mosque of Omar on Mt. Moriah; second, the 
Jewish Synagogue, beyond Moriah, on Mt. Zion; 
third, Pilate's Judgment Hall, or the Tower of 
Antonio; fourth, the Church of the Holy Sepul- 
chre; fifth, the Tower of David, near the Jaffa 
o-ate. These five towers and buildingrs lift their 
haughty heads high above the humble structures 
around them, and are clearly outlined against the 
golden splendors of the evening sky. 

The Mosque of Omar, standing on Mt. Moriah, 
in the southeastern corner of the city, is by far 
the most conspicuous of all. This marks the 



45<5 JERUSALEM. 

sight that was occupied by the old Jewish temple. 
The Mosque is truly a gem of architecture, but 
the Christian heart revolts at the idea of this 
Mohammedan ensign ot bigamy and bloodshed 
standing where once stood the splendid temple of 
Solomon. Alas! it is too true. But more of the 
Mosque hereafter. 

We came here to see the city; and when we 
behold the churches and cathedrals, the mosques 
and synagogues, the towers and minarets, rising 
up here and there above the white stone buildings 
around them, we are half inclined to believe 
"Zion" is yet wreathed round with some of her 
ancient glory. But candor compels me to say 
that here, as at Constantinople, "distance lends 
enchantment to the view." I love a pretty picture, 
and am always loath to break the mirror of ad- 
miration into fragments of analysis; but it now 
becomes us to descend the Mount of Olives, re- 
cross the Kedron, and, entering by the Stephen's 
gate, to begin an inspection of the city. 

We find the streets, which are from six to 
twelve feet wide, paved with round stones, varying 
all the way from a croose eee to a man's head. 
These stones are half buried in filth, the other 
half being left exposed, and have been trodden 
over until they are almost as smooth as glass. 
No wheeled vehicle can enter the city, for the 
reasons that the streets are too narrow to allow 
a chariot or wagon to pass through; and if they 
were wide enouo-h, the stones are too sleek and 



JERUSALEM. 



459 



slippery for a camel to walk on, and, with safety, 
draw a vehicle. You can follow one of these 
streets, or lanes, only a short distance without 
facing every point of the compass. In many 
places you have to hold your nose, and carefully 
pick your way through the dirt and filth. These 




STREET IN JERUSALEM. 



narrow, corkscrew streets (?) are lined on either 
side by a lot of stalls, from five to ten feet wide^ 
called shops, or bazaars. Traf^c seems to be at 
a stand-still. The people are mostly idle. They 
produce nothing, and consume — very little! Filth, 
ignorance, and poverty, those emblems of Mo- 



460 JERUSALEM. 

hammedan rule, more unmistakeable than the Star 
and Crescent itself, everywhere abound! 

The population of Jerusalem is variously esti- 
mated, the estimates ranging anywhere from 25,000 
to 45,000. I think the city probably has 35,000 
inhabitants, proportioned as follows: 18,000 Mo- 
hammedans, 12,000 Jews, and 5,000 Christians, 
each occupying separate and distinct quarters of 
the city. All the Christians, except a hundred 
or more, are Catholics. While there are a few 
wealthy Jew merchants and bankers in Jerusalem, 
most of the Hebrews here are mainly supported 
by a systematic benevolence, Jews in all parts of 
the world contributing to this object. 

There are many synagogues here, but only one 
worthy of special note. The Jews have fifteen 
or twenty theological students who daily assemble 
in the chief synagogue, and seat themselves on 
mats at the feet of their instructor, who sits on a 
thick, deep-tufted cushion in the centre of the 
circle. But there is no Gamaliel amono- the 
teachers, no Paul among the pupils. 

The Mosque of Omar is surrounded by a wall, 
some thirty feet high, which cuts off thirty-five 
acres, or one-fifth of the city. One part of this 
wall has been identified, with more or less cer- 
tainty, as a portion of Solomon's Temple — the 
only remaining portion. It is believed that this 
is the nearest approach to what was once the 
Holy of Holies. Every Friday afternoon, at three 
o'clock, the devout Jews of the city, old and young, 



JERUSALEM. 



461 



of hieh and low decree, assemble around these 
sacred stones for worship. Here they chant the 
Psalms of David, and read aloud from their 
prayer books and Hebrew Bibles. They kiss, 
and press themselves against, these stones for 




WAILING PLACE OF THE JEWS. 



hours. They weep and lament and pray and cry 
aloud, as if their hearts would break. Hundreds 
of these unfortunate children of Abraham as- 
semble at the "wailing-place." When each one 
has kissed the stones for probably a hundred 



462 JERUSALEM. 

times or more, they all seat themselves flat down 
on the stones in the dirt and filth. 

Here they are, all seated in r'^ws on the ground, 
facing the wall, row behind row, until the last row 
is fopty or fxfty feet from the wall. In the crowd 
I see a mother and babe who remind me of 
Hannah and Samuel. There, to the right, is a 
tall, stoop-shouldered, old man, with grey hair and 
a wrinkled brow. His long, white beard hangs 
gracefully over his breast, and falls in his lap, as 
he sits with uncovered head and bowed. That, 
methinks, is a perfect picture of Abraham as he 
sat weeping o'er Sarah's grave. Here I can pick 
out a Paul, yonder a John, an Andrew, and a 
Peter. Ah ! these are the remnants of a race 
that have left their imprint upon every page of 
human history. They sit and pray and weep, and 
will not be comforted. 

Close to the wall stand six Rabbis eight or ten 
feet apart. With their palms upon the wall, they 
repeatedly bend their elbows and kiss the stones. 
And then, in a voice as sad as sadness's very self, 
they in concert cry out: "O Lord God Almighty, 
thou has smitten us and scattered us abroad 
among the heathen nations of earth; yet, O God, 
will we praise and adore thee." 

The people, seated on the ground, swa)- to and 
fro and cry out: "A-m-e-n, a-m-e-n." 

The Rabbis, still standing, kiss the wall and ex- 
claim: "Oh! for the Temple that is no more " 



JERUSALEM 463 

■ Swaying to and fro, the pt?ople say: "We sit in 
solitude and mourn." 

Rabbis. "Oh! for the Palace that is torn 
down " 



People. "We sit in solitude and mourn." 
Rabbis. "Oh! for the walls that are demol- 
ished " 



People. "We sit in solitude and mourn." 
Rabbis. "Oh! for the great stones that are 

burned into dust " 

People. "We sit in solitude and mourn." 
Rabbis. "Oh! for our kings and mighty men 

that have fallen " 

People. "We sit in solitude and mourn." 
Rabbis. "Oh! for the glory that has departed; 

oh! for the delay of thy coming " 

People. "We sit in solitude and mourn." 
Rabbis. "Come, yea, come, O Messiah! come 
quickly. Enthrone thyself in Jerusalem. Reign 
thou over us. Be thou our God. We will be thy 
people, and thou shalt subdue the heathen nations 
of earth." 

These Jews now, as did those in olden times, 
cling with a death-like tenac'ty to the idea of a 
temporal ruler. They forgot that Christ said, 
"My kingdom is not of this world." He once 
"cam.e to His own, and His own received Him 
not;" and now they "sit in solitude and mourn." 
I have visited this "wailing-place" several times. 
It is a pitiable sight. I see men, old men, men 
patriarchal in appearance, barefooted, dressed in 



464 JERUSALEM. 

sackcloth and covered with ashes. They put their 
mouths in the dust, and cry aloud unto God in a 
most distressing manner. 

It were enough to wring tears of blood from 
the heart of a stone, to see a nation "smitten" and 
"scattered" and "cursed" of God, as are the Jews. 
Verily, they are cursed. They said, "Let His 
blood be upon us and our children," and so it is 
upon them. They are homeless wanderers. They 
have no common country, no flag they can call 
their own. Wherever man has gone on land, or 
ships on sea, the face and figure of the Jew are 
seen; and always and everywhere he rests under 
the curse of God. The blood is still upon him. 
Truly, "it is a fearful thing to fall into the hands 
of the llvino- God." 

Strange as it may appear, all these visitations 
of wrath are in direct fulfillment of prophecy. In 
his lamentations over the city, Jeremiah says: 
"The Lord hath accomplished his fury; He hath 
poured out His fierce anger, and hath kindled a 
fire in Zion, and it hath devoured the foundations 
thereof. How doth the city sit solitary! How 
hath she become a widow! The Lord hath afflict- 
ed her for the multitude of her transgressions. 
She weepeth sore in tlie night, and her tears are 
on her cheeks. Jerusalem hath grievously sinned; 
therefore is she removed. Her filthiness is in 
her skirts. Zion spreadeth forth her hands, and 
there is none to comfort her. All her people sigh 
and seek bread!' 



JERUSALEM. 465 

Reader, notice carefully the above sentence, 
and then hold your breath as I tell you that every 
morning, about nine o'clock, hundreds and hun- 
dreds of Jews assemble at one place in the city, 
and each receives a loaf of bread gratis; and that 
bread, with what fruit he can get, keeps soul and 
body together until next day. "Yea, they sigh 
and seek bread." 

The prophet continues: "The Lord hath cast 
off His Altar; He hath abhorred His sanctuary; 
He hath given up into the hand of the enemy the 
walls of her palaces. The elders of the daughters 
of Zion sit on the ground and keep silence. They 
have cast dust upon their heads. For the sins of 
her prophets and the iniquities of her priests, that 
have shed the blood of Just One in the midst of 
her, they have polluted themselves with blood, so 
that men could not touch their garments." 

We should remember that these prophecies of 
Jeremiah, and others just as striking from Isaiah, 
were uttered hundreds of years before Christ was 
born. And yet, as we read this Scripture to-day, 
it sounds like history written yesterday. It is 
literally fulfilled. The Hebrews rt'/V/"slay the Just 
One." They ^^/^^ "pollute themselves with blood." 
Because of this, God has "poured out His wrath 
upon them," their city, and their country. Jeru- 
salem has been "removed," and its "foundations!" 
have been "consumed with fire." Her "filthiness" 
is "in her skirts." God has "cast off His altar, 
and abhorred His sanctuary." He has "given 



466 JERUSALEM. 

into the hand of the enemy the walls of the pal- 
aces," and to-day the children of Solomon have 
to petition the rulers of a heathen government 
for permission to approach the remaining wall of 
their father's Temple. To-day the people actually 
"sit on the ground" with "tears on their cheeks." 
They do actually "sigh and seek for bread." 

Now I submit the question, "Can any man, 
who has a mind to think and a heart to feel, read 
this Scripture, in the light of the present condi- 
tion of Jerusalem and of the Jews, without seeing 
in it an unanswerable argument in favor of the 
inspiration of the Bible.? If the Old Testament 
writers were not inspired, if they wrote as men, 
and only as men, how was it that they could write 
of future events, of events thousands of years in 
the future, as though they were present or past.^* 
There is only one rational conclusion to be reach- 
ed, and that is, that these men of old wrote as 
they were moved by the Holy Spirit — that they 
climbed high upon the Mt. of Inspiration, and 
from there they, with the field-glass of prophecy, 
scanned the whole horizon of knowledge. 



CHAPTER > XL. 

JERUSALEM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 



Haram Area — Its Past and Present— Wall — Gates — Stopped at the Point ot Dag;- 
gers — Legal Papers and Special Escort — Mosque of Omar — Its Exterior and 
Interior — A Great Rock Within — History and Legends Connected with the 
Rock — Mohammed's Ascent to Heaven — Place of Departed Spirits — Their Res- 
cue — Ark of the Covenant — Golden Key. 



Y I S previously stated, an area of thirty-five 
Ij^ acres in the south-eastern corner of Jerusa- 
lem is surrounded by an extra wall. The 
plot of ground thus cut off from the rest of the 
city is, approximately, a parallelogram, and is 
known as the Haram, or Sacred Inclosure. The 
surface of the area is not exactly level, and was 
formerly less so than at present. It was orginally 
highest at the northern end ; thence it sloped 
southward. From a lono-itudinal line runningr 
through the centre of the inclosure, the surface 
sloped also eastward and westward. This north- 
ern elevation, which was of solid rock, has been 
cut down twenty feet or more. The southern 
end, and also the east and west sides, of the in- 
closure have been considerably filled up. So, 
evidently, the appearance of the Haram is materi- 
ally changed from what it once was. 

The massive wall surrounding the Haram 
serves as the rear wall of many of the dwelling- 



468 JERUSALEM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 

houses of the city. These houses join each other 
and are all built close back against the Haram 
wall, the top of the wall forming' part of the floor 
of the second storyr of the buildings. When the 
houses are only one story high, the top of the 
Haram wall is on a level with their flat roofs. 

There are eight gateways leading into the 
Haram, five through the western, and three 
through the northern, wall. The numerous en- 
trances, however, by no means argue that the 
Haram is easy of access. To enter this sacred 
inclosure, a Christian must secure permission 
from the Turkish authorities. Not knowing this, 
I, all alone, start to the Haram throuofh one of the 
gates in the north wall. Just as I am about to 
step in upon the sacred area, up spring three 
Arabs with javelins in their hands, and daggers in 
their eyes. As the Arabs draw their javelins, I 
withdiX2iW my head. 

Before making another attempt to enter, I ob- 
tain, through the American Consul, the necessary 
permission. The Consul also kindly sends his 
Cavass, that is, his official body-guard, with me. 
Going down David Street, we enter the Haram 
through a gate about midway of the west wall. 
Standing at this gate and looking directly east- 
ward, we see, about a hundred yards in front of 
us, a broad, level platform paved with smooth, 
white, marble-like limestone. The platform is 
higher than we are, and must be reached by as- 
cending two long flights of marble steps. The 



JERUSALEM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 469 

first flight brings us up on a broad, level terrace 
which, to our right, supports several old olive and 
cypress trees. Ascending the second stair-way, 
we find ourselves standinof on the edee of the 
paved platform already mentioned. We are now 
face to face with the famous Mosque of Omar, or, 
to speak more correctly, the Dome of the Rock. 
Next to Mecca, this is the most sacred shrine in 
the Mohammedan world. And, before leaving, 
we shall find that it is not without interest to the 
Jew, and also to the Christian. 

The building- is octagonal, each of its eiofht 
sides being sixty-six feet long, and forty-six feet 
high. Hence it is five hundred and twenty-eight 
feet in circumference, and one hundred and 
seventy-six in diameter. The walls, for the first 
sixteen feet above the foundation, are made of, or 
incased in, different-colored marble, the colors so . 
blending as to form beautifully designed panels. 
The walls above the marble casing are built of 
enamelled, or porcelain, tiles of various colors. 
The blue, black, yellow, white, and green tiles are 
interwoven with great artistic taste and skill. 
Above the marble casing, each of the eioht walls 
has five tall, arched windows of" richly-stained 
glass. The walls are adorned here and there 
with numerous quotations from the Koran, beauti- 
fully inwrought in the tiles. 

The most striking feature of the external ap- 
pearance of this Mosque is the splendid dome 
that gracefully rises from the centre of its flat 



JERUSALEM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 47 I 

roof. The base, or drum, of the dome is twenty- 
seven feet high, and is pierced by sixteen mosaic 
windows. For oddity of design, delicacy of work- 
manship, and beauty of effect, I have seldom seen 
anything to equal these windows. McGarvey, 
with his usual grace and eloquence, says: "This 
dome is 65 feet in diameter at its base, and 97 
feet high from the base to apex. The apex is 170 
feet hio-h from the o-round. It is covered with 
lead, almost black from exposure, and is sur- 
mounted with a lirge gilt crescent. The peculiar 
grace of the curve with which it springs from the 
drum on which it rests, and that with which it 
reaches its crescent-crowned apex, distinguish it 
for beauty of outline from all other domes, per- 
haps, in the world. From whatever point it is 
viewed, whether from the haram area, the city 
wall, the Mount of Olives, or any other height 
about the city, it is the most prominent and 
pleasing object in Jerusalem." 

The Mosque has four doors, before reaching 
any one of which, we must pass through a vesti- 
bule. We enter from the east side. On reaching 
the door, a tall Arab, patriarchal and reverential 
in appearance, approaches and informs us that no 
Mohammedan, much less a Frank, is allowed to 
enter this Hai'ani es Sheriif, this "Noble Sanctu- 
ary," with his shoes on. The patriarchal Arab 
has a supply of slippers on hand which can be had 
for a few piasters. Taking off our boots, we put 



472 JERUSALEM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 

on the rented slippers, and continue to examine 
and admire the mighty structure. 

The building, being eight-sided, is practically 
round. Since coming on the inside, this is even 
more noticeable than when we were without. 
Within the building, and thirteen feet from the 
wall, there is a large circle composed of eight 
huge square piers and sixteen round columns — 
there being two columns between each two piers. 
The piers, or pillars, are built of different-colored 
marble arranged in showy panels. The columns 
are of the finest marble, and are so highly polish- 
ed that they reflect like mirrors. Each is crown 
ed with a Corinthian capital overlaid with gold. 
From column to column, and also from column 
to pier, there springs a beautifully rounded arch 
built of marble blocks, alternately black and 
white. These several arches furnish a strong 
support to the roof above. 

Nearer the centre of the building, and thirty 
feet from the pillars just mentioned, there is an 
inner and smaller circle, formed by four piers and 
twelve columns, there being three columns between 
each two of the pillars. The centre of each col- 
umn and pier in the outer circle is thirteen feet 
from the wall. The columns of the inner circle 
are likewise thirty feet from those in the outer 
one. As from the columns and piers of the outer 
circle, so also from those of the smaller one, 
marble arches spring. These latter arches sup- 



JERUSALEM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 473 

port the mighty dome, the exterior of which has 
already been described. 

Look now at the vast structure around you, at 
the sunny dome above you ! Look at the panel- 
ed piers, at the mirror-like columns, at the gilded 
capitals, at the marble arches adorned with rich 
mosaics and bordered above with inscriptions 
from the Koran beautifully wrought in interlaced 
letters of burnished gold. It is evening. The sun 
is sinking. Banks of golden clouds are floating 
over the city. The airy dome above us seems 
suspended in the air and belted with fire. The 
stained windows in the dome receive; transmit, 
and reflect the glowing light, until every part of 
the "Noble Sanctuary " is flooded with golden fire. 
In the language of Dr. Geike, "There could, I 
suppose, be no building more perfectly lovely 
than the Mosque of Omar, more correctly known 
as the Dome of the Rock." 

"Why is it called the Dome of the Rock.?" the 
reader asks. I am now ready to answer this 
question. Within the inner circle of columns, and 
directly underneath the dome, a huge reck rises 
up through the floor. It is seven feet high, and is 
fifty-three feet across! The whole edifice about 
us was built in honor of this stone, and hence the 
name of the structure — "The Dome of the Rock." 

"Why should this rock be so highly honored.?" 
For many reasons. It is honored alike by Jew, 
Christian, and Mohammedan. According to tradi- 
tion, this rock was the summit of Mt. Moriah, and 



474 JERUSALEM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 

on it Abraham offered up Isaac. It was on this 
rock that Jacob saw the ladder extending from 



ii,|iii;iliippiiii!ili 




earth to heaven on which angels were ascending 
and descending. This rock was David's threshing- 
Hoor that he bought from the Jebusite. On it 



JERUSALExM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 475 

David built an altar and offered the sacrifice that 
stayed the wrath of the angel, and thus saved the 
city. Over this rock Solomon built his Temple. 
On this rock Christ stood, when twelve years of 
age, and confounded the doctors with His ques- 
tions and answers. On this same rock He stood, 
in later life, and preached the riches of His own 
everlasting gospel. 

Since these traditions are wide-spread, and cur- 
rently believed, it is not at all strange that this 
rock has imbedded itself in all Jewish and Chris- 
tian hearts. "But" says the reader, "there is noth- 
ing in these stories, be they mythical or historical, 
to enkindle in the Mohammedan heart a rever- 
ence for this rock." I admit your argument. 
"Why then," you ask, "did the Mohammedans 
build the 'Dome,' and why does the Koran teach 
that one prayer offered here is worth a thousand 
^offered elsewhere.'^" 

Your questions are reasonable, and I will solve 
the mystery for you. According to Moslem belief, 
Mohammed was an incarnation of deity. From 
this rock he ascended to heaven. He being a 
divine personage, the rock did not want to leave 
him.. So, when Mohammed began the ascent, the 
rock started up also. It would have gone on to 
heaven with him, but Gabriel happened to be 
present, and when the rock was only seven feet 
high, he laid his hand upon it and stopped its up- 
ward flight. Since that time the rock has remain- 
ed just where Gabriel left it. God performs a- 



470 JERUSyVLEM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 

perpetual miracle by keeping the sacred rock 
suspended in the air. 

The superstitious followers of the false prophet 
really believe these marvelous stories. They 
show us the imprint that Gabriel's fingers made 
on the rock when, with a touch of his hand, he 
stayed its upward flight. They show us also deep 
impressions in the rock which, they affirm, were 
made by Mohammed's feet as he leaped from the 
rock into the air! The fact that each impress is 
as large as a peck measure causes Johnson to re- 
mark Mohammed must have had at least a half 
bushel of feet. 

The Moslems believe, as before stated, that this 
rock is suspended in the air, and we shall see how 
the credulous creatures are taught to believe such 
absurdities. Underneath the uplifted stone there 
is an artificial chamber, twenty-four feet square, 
and eiorht feet from floor to ceiline. The stone 
walls are whitewashed, but the floor and ceiling- 
are left bare. This cavern is reached by a flight 
of stairs which leads down from the edore of the 
rock above. When devotees of the Arab prophet 
come into the building, they are shown the famous 
rock and told that it is suspended in the air. To 
convince them of the truth of this statement, they 
are brought down into this underground cavern. 
Now, waving the burning candle above his head, 
the attending dignitary says to the stranger: "Be- 
hold! See for yourself! The rock above you has 
no support. It rests on nothing. It is pcrpetu- 



JERUSALEM CONTINUED — MOSQUE OF OMAR. 477 

ally kept up by the Almighty God in honor of 
Mohammed, His prophet." ■ 

Stamping my foot upon the stone floor of this 
rock-hewn chamber, and noticing the strange echo, 
I say to the Mohammedan guard: "What means 
this hollow sound? There is evidently another 
cavern still below us. For what is it used?" The 
astonished guide replies: "What is it used for? 
Why, sir, the opening beneath us is the pit of 
departed spirits. When a true believer dies, his 
soul goes into this pit, and there he stays until 
Mohammed reaches down and draws him out by 
the hair of the head." 

Let the author remark, in this connection, that 
an Arab regards it as the worst calamity that 
could possibly befall him to marry some Delilah, 
and have her clip his hair, or pull it out, and for 
him to die before it erows out aeain. Should this 
happen, Mohammed could get no hold upon his 
slick head, and he would be lost forever. Mark 
Twain comments on this, and closes by saying: 
"The wicked scoundrels need not be so particular, 
from the fact most of them are going to be 
damned, matters not how they are barbered." 

It is not at all improbable that this secret cham- 
ber contains objects of great interest to the Chris- 
tian world. When Herod's temple was destroyed, 
Titus, we are told, carried the golden candle-stick 
to Rome. But the Ark of the Covenant was not 
mentioned. The Ark was the most highly prized 
thing on earth to the Hebrews. It is natural. 



478 JERUSALEM CONTINUED MOSQUE OF OMAR. 

therefore, that they should have done everything 
possible to keep it out of the hands of the 
Romans. To do this, it is supposed that the 
pious Hebrews hid the Ark in some niche, or 
corner, of the honey-combed rock underneath the 
Temple. The Christian world would be glad to 
explore the secret caverns under the Mosque of 
Omar. But the Turkish government stands here, 
like a fiery fiend waving a sword of vengeance, 
saying: "Hands off Stand back, or I will let this 
sword fall upon your unprotected head." And we 
do stand back. But I believe the dav will come 
when the golden key of science will unlock all of 
these closed doors, and when the electric light of 
civilization will be turned on. Then will these 
dark passages yield up their hoarded treasures to 
the Christian Church, to the lovers of history, of 
truth, and of God. 



CHAPTER XLI. 

IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 



Church of the Holy Sepulchre — Peculiar Architecture— Strange Partnership — The 
Centre of the Earth — The Grave of Adam — Unaccountable Superstitions — An 
Underground World — Pool of Siloam — Kedron Va'ley— The Final Judg- 
ment — Tomb of the Kings — Valley of Hinnom — Lower Pool of Gihon — 
Moloch — Gehenna — Upper Pool of Gihon — Calvary — The Savior's Tomb. 



IN giving a bird's eye view of Jerusalem, I stat- 
ed that the Church of the Holy Sepulchre 
was one of the most prominent objects in the 
city. This famous building is located about mid- 
way the city, from east to west, but not more 
than one hundred and fifty or two hundred yards 
from the northern wall. It is, therefore, near the 
Damascus gate. Although thus centrally situ- 
ated, although it covers an area of 200 by 230 
feet, and although it lifts its double dome high in 
the air, this church is frequently passed by with- 
out attractinpf the slightest notice. 

The reader naturally asks, "How is it possible 
that a building at once so historic and prominent 
as this attracts little or no attention.?" The 
question is easily answered. Except a few feet 
on the south side, the structure is entirely sur- 
rounded by other buildings that join close on to 
it. These houses, which serve both for business 
purposes and residences, are built one upon an- 



480 IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 

Other, until they reach high in air. The church is 
thus almost entirely shut out from the view of 
the streetwalker. To be seen externally, this edi- 
fice must be viewed from the city walls, from the 
Tower of David, from the Mosque of Omar, from 
the hill on the west, or from the Mount of Olives, 
on the east. When viewed from any one of these 
elevations, the Church of the Holy Sepulchre is 
indeed prominent. From an architectural stand- 
point, the building is "without form and void." 
But there it is, its two blue domes, like ever-open 
eyes, of unequal size, continually staring you in 
the face. 

The building is owned jointly by the Latins, 
the Greeks, the Armenians, and the Copts, each 
sect having its separate chapels and apartments, 
neither one being allowed to trespass upon the 
rights of any of the others. The building proper 
is owned by so-called Christian sects, as stated 
above, but the door is the property of the Mohani- 
medans\ And jealously do they guard their prop- 
erty. The ponderous door works on rough hinges, 
and is fastened with bolts of iron. But to open 
it, the worshippers and even the priests who min- 
ister at the altars, are compelled to use a golden 
key. When the gold glitters, the door opens. To 
avoid this unparalleled imposition, many priests 
have actually taken up their abode in the sanctu- 
ary, their meals being passed to them through 
small apertures in the wall. The people are not 
so fortunate as the priests. They can not live in 



' IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 48 1 

seclusion. They must work for bread and blanket, 
for Church and children. It is all they can do to 
keep soul and body together, yet will they divide 
their scanty living with the Mohammedans who 
own the door of the Sepulchre. 

Does the reader ask, "Why do they not worship 
elsewhere, and save their money.? The answer is 
twofold. The priests are in the church ; and with 
a catholic there is no prayer without penance, no 
pardon without a priest. Besides, they are taught 
to believe that this church is a peculiarly sacred 
place; that within this building is the geographical 
centre of the earth. A stone pillar marks the 
central spot. Here God got the dust to make 
Adam. Here, also, is Adam's grave. Here was 
cauorht the ram that Abraham sacrificed on the 
altar of burnt offering instead of Isaac. Within 
this building is a stone prison where Christ was 
confined. Calvary, where he was crucified,, the 
Sepulchre, where he was buried. They point 
out the graves of Nicodemus, and Joseph of 
Arimathea. These places are all crowded to- 
gether under one roof; and yet they are pointed 
out by the Latin priests with an air of certainty 
that seems to say: "I have told you the truth. 
To doubt is to be damned.'' 

The building is not on Calvary, but over it. As 
if one would turn a tea-cup bottom upwards, and 
then turn a large glass globe over that. The 
floor of the building accommodates itself to the 
rough surface of the mount. So the mount is en- 



482 IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 

tirely covered up, and one no more realizes that 
he is about Calvary than if he were in Tremont 
Temple, in Boston. Entering the door from the 
south, one sees the Stone of Anointing directly in 
front of him, and about fifteen feet away. This 
marble slab is raised about twelve inches from 
the floor, and rests on a wooden block. It is also 
covered by wooden planks, so only the edge of 
the stone is visible. The stone had to be covered 
to keep the superstitious Catholics from kissing 
it away. 

Turning now to the left, we find that the build- 
ing resembles a large rotunda. Near the centre 
of the rotunda we see a small building, twenty-six 
by sixteen feet, and fifteen feet high. This small 
building is a thing of beauty. It is made of 
many-colored marble, richly polished and elabor- 
ately carved. It looks like the model of some 
magnificent cathedral. It is divided into two 
rooms, the first being sixteen feet, and the second 
ten feet long. The larger room is called the 
Chapel of the Angels, while the second is said to 
contain the Sepulchre of our Lord. The two 
rooms are lighted day and night by fifty-three 
gold and silver lamps. Numerous candles are 
also kept burning. 

Christmas morning, thousands of Greek Chris- 
tians crowd in and around the Church of the 
Holy Sepulchre. The Greek Patriarch enters this 
small structure, and extinguishes all the lamps 
and candles. Silence and awe fall upon the mul- 




hf ' B III ^ 
• i" 






.1 " ' 




p- 1 








HOLY SEPULCHRE. 



483 



484 IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 

titude, each of whom has an unlighted candle in 
his hand. Suddenly the Patriarch from within 
announces that he has received fresh fire from 
Heaven. The Patriarch stands at a small opening 
in the marble wall with the sacred fire in his hand. 
The frenzied crowd vie with each other, each try- 
ing to light his taper first. One man ignites his 
candle from the Patriarch's fire, and a dozen 
others light from him. Presently, a deafening 
shout goes up from the excited multitude. Every 
man waves a burning taper above his' head. The 
whole scene resembles a restless sea of flame. 
Expert horsemen now leap upon swift-footed 
coursers which have been held in waiting. The 
new-fallen fire is conveyed to different parts of 
the country. Ships are at Jaffa to bear the 
Heavenly gift to Greece and Russia. This sacred 
flame burns continually in the Greek churches 
until next Christmas, at which time this shameful 
imposition will again be practiced on the super- 
stitious people. 

Ascending a flight of stairs, we find ourselves 
on what is falsely called Calvary. Removing a 
few planks in the floor, the priest shows the bare 
top of Calvary, the round holes in the mountain 
where the three crosses stood, and the rent in the 
rock, which was caused by the convulsion of nature 
at the time of the Crucifixion. And many other 
things they show us, whereof if I should write, 
this book would not hold all I should say. 

Now, if we had time, we might spend two or 



IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 485 

three days, pleasantly and profitably, down imder 
the city. For, be it understood, thaf these hills 
on which Jerusalem is built are honey-combed 
with ancient stables, caves, caverns, quarries, cata- 
combs, and other subterranean passages. Captain 
Warren, chief agent of the Palestine Exploration 
Fund, is my authority for saying that Jerusalem, 
so far as catacombs and underground passages 
are concerned, is far richer than Constantinople, 
Paris, or even Rome itself 

Just outside of the north wall, and a little to 
the east of the Damascus gate, we enter through 
an iron-barred door into a great cavern, known 
as Solomon's Quarry or the quarry out of which 
Solomon got the stones to build his Temple. 
With a strong body-guard, and a dozen or more 
burning tapers, we wander for hours and hours in 
this underground world, which in many respects 
rivals Mammoth Cave. It is co-extensive with 
the city above. A forest of natural columns sup- 
port the ceiling, which in many places is exceed- 
ingly high. Here and there, we find huge blocks 
of detached stone, which were lonor aofo dressed, 
but never removed from the quarry. They were 
probably dressed by Solomon's workmen, but 
were never honored with a place in his splendid 
Temple. That this was at one time a quarry, is 
evident from the abundance of stone chips and 
fragments that everywhere abound. In this cave, 
it is claimed, the Masonic order was organized. 
It has no river of eyeless fish, as has the Kentucky 



486 



IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 



Cave, but it boasts a never-failing spring of pure 
and sparkling water. Think of all this underneath 




POOL OK SI LOAM. 



the Holy City! O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, there is 
none like thee in all the earth! 

On the white ceiling above me, I wrote with the 
smoke of my candle, "God is love." I sang, and 



IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 487 

the music went ringing and reverberating adown 
the long, winding labyrinths of rock as I sang: 

" Rock of Ages, cleft for me, 
Let me hide myself in Thee." 

Leaving this cave, let us now go down south of 
the city. Just where the two ravines meet, we 
come to the Pool of Siloam. Here our Blessed 
Lord once spat upon the ground, made clay of 
the spittle, anointed a blind man's eyes, and told 
him to wash in this Pool of Siloam. The man 
did wash his eyes, and at once received sight for 
blindness. The Pool is preserved to this day. 
Its length is fifty feet. It is fourteen feet wide at 
one end, and seventeen at the other, and has a 
depth of eighteen feet. It is walled up with rock. 
A flight of stone steps leads down into it from the 
southern end. Rev. Mr. El Kary, of Shechem, 
the only Baptist preacher in Palestine and Syria, 
was baptised in this Pool. It is now partially 
filled up with mud ; still it contains a considerable 
quantity of water, and I go down into it and 
bathe my face. 

In the valley, below the Pool, is a large vege- 
table garden and olive orchard. Vegetation lux- 
uriates in this rich valley, which is constantly 
supplied, by means of irrigation, with water from 
the Pool of Siloam. 

The ravine east of Jerusalem, the one which 
separates the city from the Mount of Olives, is 
known as The Brook Kedron. But the lower end 



488 IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 

of this "brook," near the Pool of Siloam, is called 
The Valley of Jehoshaphat. This is the Jewish 
cemetery. The valley and the mountain sides on 
either side of the brook is one vast graveyard, 
and it is bristling thick with white stone slabs, 
which serve as head-boards to the graves. Jews 
from all parts of the world are constantly coming 
back here to be buried. Accordingf to their be- 
lief, the Final Judgment will take place in this 
Valley of Jehoshaphat. They say the name is sig- 
nificant — Jehoshaphat, "Jehovah judgeth." They 
quote Joel III: 2 and 12 — "I will also gather all 
nations, and will bring them down into the valley 
of Jehoshaphat." "Let the heathen be awakened, 
and come up to the valley of Jehoshaphat; for 
there will I sit to judge all the heathen around 
about." 

Continuing up this valley, we soon come to the 
tombs of Zachariah, Absalom, and St. James, 
which were mentioned in a previous chapter. 
Passing these by, we follow the valley northward 
for a mile or more, and finally come to the cele- 
brated Tombs of the Kings. The peculiar con- 
struction of these tombs, as well as the historical 
interest attaching to them, entitles them to a 
more elaborate description than my limited space 
will allow. 

Reader, imagine that you are standing with me 
on a broad, level shelf of rock. Approaching its 
centre, we see what might be called a huge cistern, 
ninety feet square, hewn into the rock to a depth 



IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 



489 



of twenty feet. A long flight of broad, stone 
steps leads us down into this excavation, whose 
rocky walls are perpendicular. A door, cut in the 
south wall, conducts us into a series of rock-hewn 




chambers. With lighted candles, we pass into the 
first room, thence through a small door to the 
second, the third, and so on. All these chambers 
are honey-combed with vaults, cut in the rock, for 
the reception of the ancient dead. This under- 



49C> IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 

ground mansion of the dead extends seventy-five 
feet from north to south, and fifty feet from east 
to west. It is a perfect network of rooms. The 
ceiling is elaborately adorned with carved wreaths 
and roses, with vines, leaves, trees, and fruits. 
Everywhere the chisel has left undeniable evi- 
dence of the sculptor's skill. The outside door is 
usually closed by a large fiat, circular stone, which 
looks much like a wheel, or a block sawn off of the 
end of a log. Before entering, we have to "roll 
the stone away from the door of the Sepulchre." 

Let us now return to the Pool of Siloam, and 
walk up the other ravine, which is known as the 
Valley of Hinnom. Of this valley. Doctor Geike, 
who is always a safe man to quote from, says: 
"Israelites once offered their children to Moloch, 
and these very rocks on each side have echoed 
the screams of the innocent victims, and reverber- 
ated with the chants and drums of the priests, 
raised to drown the cries of agony. It is well 
called the Valley of Hinnom — 'the Valley of the 
Groans of the Children:' a name which perpe- 
trates the horror once excited by the scenes it 
witnessed; especially, it would seem, in this lower 
part. ^Here, under Ahaz, Manasseh, and Amon, 
the hideous ox-headed human figure of Moloch — 
the summer sun in his orlowino- and witheringf 
might — was raised in brass and copper, with ex- 
tended arms, on which were laid, helplessly bound, 
the children given up by their parents 'to pass 
through the fire' to him; a heated furnace behind 



\ 

\ 



IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 49I 

the idol sending its flames through the hollow 
limbs, till the innocents writhed off into a burning 
fire beneath. Ahaz and Manasseh had set a royal 
example in this horrible travesty of worship, by 
burning alive some of their own children; and 
what kings did commoners would be ready to 
copy. In later times the very words Ge-Hin- 
nom — 'the Valley of Hinnom' — slightly changed 
into Gehenna, became the common name for hell. 
The destruction of Assyria is pictured by Isaiah 
as a huge funeral pile, 'deep and large,' with 
•much wood,' 'prepared for the king,' and kindled 
by the breath of Jehovah, as if by 'a stream of 
brimstone.' Jeremiah speaks of 'high places' in 
this valley, as if children had been burned on dif- 
ferent altars; and he can think of no more vivid 
image of the curse impending over Jerusalem 
than that it should become an abomination be- 
fore God, like this accursed place." 

In this same valley are two pools, known as the 
Upper and Lower Pools of Gihon. The lower 
and larpfer of the two is near the southwest corner 
of the city. This immense reservoir is, approxi- 
mately, 600 feet long, i6o feet broad, and 40 feet 
deep. It has a capacity for 19,000,000 gallons. 
The other pool is about three hundred yards 
farther up the valley. It, also, is very large, but 
not so capacious as the lower cne. From this 
Upper Pool of Gihon, water is conveyed through 
an aqueduct to the different pools in the city, of 
which there are quite a number. 



IN AND AROUND JERUSALEM. 493 

Standing on the city wall just above the Da- 
mascus gate, and looking directly north, we see, 
about two hundred yards away, a mount rising up 
somewhat higher than we are. It looks like the 
upturned face of a man. We see first the chin, 
then the eyeless sockets, and then the forehead 
beyond. It is Golgotha, the place of a skull. 
Here is where the world's greatest tragedy occur- 
red. No mark is left to show where the cross 
stood; yet Calvary has become the centre of the 
world's thouofht. 

Some two hundred and fifty yards west of Cal- 
vary, there are some tombs cut in the solid rock. 
One of these has been pointed out by Captain 
Conder as the probable one in which our blessed 
Lord lay for three days and nights. When we 
remember that Captain Conder is a scientist of a 
high order, that he has been in Palestine twenty 
years, sometimes with twenty and sometimes with 
forty men with and under him, searching out 
ancient names, places, and history, we must ac- 
knowledge that he is good authority on these 
subjects. Of this tomb, he says: " It would be bold 
to hazard the suggestion that the single Jewish 
sepulchre thus found, which dates from about the 
time of Christ, is indeed the tomb in the o-arden, 
nigh unto the place called Golgotha, which be- 
longed to the rich Joseph of Arimathaea. Yet its 
appearance, so near the old place of execution, 
and so far from the other old cemeteries of the 
city, is extremely remarkable." 



494 I^' ^^^ AROUND JARUSALEM. 

I believe God has wisely and purposely hidden 
these places from His children. He knows our 
imperfections. He knows we would make too 
much of crosses and tombs. He wants us to 
think more of Him who died on the cross, and 
rose from the tomb, who ascended on high, sat 
down at the right hand of the Father, and ever 
liveth to make intercession for us. 



CHAPTER XLII. 



EGYPT. 



Jaffa — Its History and its Orange Orchard — On the Mediterranean — Port Said — 
Suez Canal — The Red Sea— Pharaoh and his Host Swallo'.ved Up — From Suez 
to Cairo — Arabian Nights — Egyptian JIuseum — Royal Mummies — A Look at 
Pharaoh — A Mummy 5,700 Years Old— A Talk with the King — Christmas- 
Day and a Generous Rivalry — Donkey-Boys of Cairo — Wolves around a 
Helpless Lamb — Johnson on his Knees — Yankee Doodle — The Nile — The 
Prince of Wales — Pyramid in the Distance — Face to Face with the Pyramid of 
Cheops — Ascending the Pyramid — Going in it — Johnson Cries for Help — The 
Sphinx, and what it is Thinking about. 



T'AFFA, "the high," or "the beautiful," situated 
yl on the Mediterranean, forty-two miles from 
Jerusalem, is the principal seaport in Pales- 
tine, It has always been a favorite shipping 
point. From here, Jonah started on that famous 
voyage that ended on the inside of a whale. Not 
until the time of the Maccabees, second century 
before Christ, did Jaffa, ancient Joppa, fall into 
the hands of the Jews. Soon, however, it was 
wrenched from them by the Romans. Augustus 
returned it to them. "Since then," Doctor Geikie 
remarks, "its fortunes have been various; now 
Roman, next Saracen, next under the Crusaders, 
then under the Mamelukes of Egypt, and next 
under the Turks, to whom, to its misfortune, it 
still belongs." 

It was here that Napoleon I. had several thou- 
sand Arab prisoners of war shot. The great 



49^ EGYPT. 

chieftain has been severely censured for this 
"cold-blooded murder." I am not sure, however, 
but that his "cold-blooded" critics are as heart- 
less in stabbing him with the pen, as he was in 
ordering those Arabs executed. He was thou- 
sands of miles from home. He had no provisions 
to feed, and no men to guard, the prisoners. To 
turn them loose was to strengthen the enemy, who 
already outnumbered him ten to one. In the name 
of Mars, I ask, what else could Napoleon do? 

While in Joppa, staying with one Simon a tan- 
ner, who lived by the seaside, Peter went upon 
the housetop and, in a vision, saw a sheet let 
down from Heaven, filled with all manner of four 
footed beasts. There is to-day in Jaffa a tannery, 
by the seaside. The stone vats are exceedingly 
old. The most pleasant place in Jaffa is on the 
housetops. Standing upon the flat roof of the 
house in the tan-yard, I easily throw pebbles into 
the Sea. 

Jaffa is worthy of her name. Situated in the 
midst of an extensive orange orchard, which 
slopes at first steeply, and then gently, up from 
the water's edge, she may well be called, " The 
Beautiful." I have eaten oranges in different 
countries, but nowhere have I found them so deli- 
cately and deliciously flavored as here in Jaffa. 
The orchard stretches itself alone the seashore 
for two miles, or more, and extends about the 
same distance back towards the hill-country. 
Not oranges only, but figs, dates, pomegranates, 



EGYPT, 



497 



pears, peaches, bananas, apricots and other tropi- 
cal fruits florish about Jaffa, This is a great 
summer resort for the people of Bethlehem, Naz- 
areth, and Jerusalem. And why should it not be? 
The sea breeze is refreshing, the foliage of the 
orange trees is always green, and the blossoms 
always fragrant. The ten thousand people who 




THE CASTLE OF DAVID AND JAFFA GATE. 

live in Jaffa walk through filthy streets, and live 
in sorry houses, many of them in miserable huts. 
They are not, however, so poverty-stricken as are 
their kinsmen in other portions of the country, 
for the showers of golden fruit are constantly 
bringing streams of golden coin into the Beauti- 
ful City. 

With pockets full of oranges, and hearts full of 
gratitude that God has graciously permitted us 



49^- EGYPT. 

to traverse the Holy Land from Dan to Beersheba, 
and from the river to the Great Sea, we take 
shipping at Jaffa for the land of the Pharaohs. 
The voyage is rendered thoroughly uncomfort- 
able because of a cargo of sheep. The helpless 
creatures are crowded together almost as if they 
were cut up and salted down as mutton. During 
a rough sea, they are so shaken up and jostled 
together that they, like Peter's wife's mother, lie 
sick of a fever. The fumes arising from these 
fevered victims have a most distressinof effect 
upon the passengers. But for the sea breeze, we 
should all go crazy, or should ourselves die of the 
fever. Night brings no sleep to our pillows, no 
relief to our throbbing temples. I feel that I 
would almost be glad to be thrown overboard, 
like Jonah, and trust to some passing whale to 
carry me ashore. It is therefore with great pleas- 
ure that we step off of this sheep-cursed ship on 
Egyptian soil, in Port Said, at the mouth of the 
Suez Canal. Port Said, which now has five to 
eieht thousand inhabitants, has been built since 
the opening of the Suez Canal which, as the 
reader knows, connects the Mediterranean and 
Red seas. It is, perhaps, according to its length, 
the most important stream or "connecting body" 
of water in the world. 

Leaving Port Said on a steamer, I soon find 
myself gliding through this Canal, whose con- 
struction is regarded as one of the grandest 
triumphs of modern science. Great banks of sand 



EGYPT. 499 

rise on either side, and the bhie sky stretches 
above our merchant ship. We are constantly 
passing large merchant ships going to south Africa 
and to India, and meetinof others coming from 
there. Every few hundred yards, we see a dredg- 
ing machine at work deepening and widening the 
Canal. The desert sands are ever encroaching 
upon it. I believe it will finally have to bewailed 
up with rock. The Suez Canal was opened, more 
than twenty years ago, in the presence of repre- 
sentatives of nearly every civilized government. 
It is iio miles long, 26 feet deep, 72 feet wide at 
the bottom, and 140 feet at the top, and was con- 
structed at a cost of almost one hundred million 
dollars. "Tne great advantage of the Canal," 
says the Lo7zdon Tiines, "is, of course, the decrease 
of the distance to be traveled between Europe 
and India; for, while it is about 1 1,200 miles from 
London or Hamburg, by the Cape of Good Hope, 
to Bombay, by the Suez it is only 6,332. This 
reduces the voyage by twenty-four days. From 
Marseilles or Genoa, a saving of thirty days is 
effected, and from Trieste thirty-seven." The 
rates at which steamers are allowed to pass is 
from five to six miles per hour. 

While the French furnished the brains and the 
money for the construction of the Canal, it is at 
present chiefly owned by Great Britain, Disraeli 
having bought up a great part of the stock, 
when considerably below par, for 4,000,000 pounds. 
Since that time, however, the value has increased 



500 EGYPT. 

to nearly 11,000,000 pounds. It was, therefore, a 
paying investment. Out of every one hundred 
vessels passing this way, seventy-five of them be- 
long to England. The Canal is jealously guarded 
by English forts and English men-of-war. The 
British Lion has laid his paw upon Egypt, 
and ere long -a change will come over the spirit 
of somebody's dreams." 

Passing through the land of Goshen, where 
Israel dwelt, then through a series of lakes, and 
finally by the town of Suez, we enter the Red Sea. 
There is more life in or on this sea than around 
its waters. Nevertheless, it is of surpassing inter- 
est to the students of sacred and profane history. 
The place where Moses led the children of Israel 
across the sea can not be determined with cer- 
tainty. The authorities are about equally divided 
between each of two places. Pharaoh and his 
host were swallowed up by the sea, and no one 
has ever thought enouofh of them even to fish for 
their chariot wheels. A thinking man, with a de- 
vout heart in him, trembles as he stands upon the 
shore of this sea, and reads the thirteenth and 
fourteenth chapters of Exodus, and especially 
when in the vicinity of Mount Sinai he reads the 
nineteenth and twentieth chapters. 

Returning to Suez, we find a rude contrivance, 
by courtesy called a train, which makes occa- 
sional trips to Cairo. It is by all odds the most 
uncomfortable "clap-trap" I have ever been in. 
It is constructed much after the order of our 



EGYPT. 501 

cattle-cars. During the trip, we encounter a sand 
storm and are almost suffocated. I suppose, how- 
ever, I should do like other folk, and praise the 
bridge that brings me over safely. 

At all events, I am now in Egypt, the oldest 
country in the world, the cradle of civilization. 
It is here that the god of thought first waved his 
enchanted wand, and separated intellectual light 
from the long night of ignorance. I am in Cairo, 
the capital of Egypt, and, next to Damascus, the 
most exclusively Oriental city in the Levant. It 
is still the city of "Arabian Nights." It is as Eas- 
tern and as odd now as when "Raselas" roamed 
through its streets. I should like to describe Cai- 
ro, with its mosques and minarets, with its flower 
gardens and palm groves, with its narrow streets 
and curious bazaars, thronged and crowded with a 
movino- mass of turbaned men and veiled women. 

I should like especially, to speak of my trip up 
the Nile, of my visits to the place where it is said 
Pharaoh's daughter "came down down to wash 
herself in the river," and found Moses in the ark 
of bulrushes (Ex. XI: i-io), to the Virgin's tree, 
in the ward where it is claimed that Joseph and 
Mary lived during their stay in Egypt, to the 
petrified forests, and to other places of interest; 
but Time, tl]at restless, sleepless, ever-watchful 
tyrant, forbids. If I were Joshua, I would com- 
mand the sun to stand still while I finish this 
chapter. As that is impossible, I will do the next 




502 



EGYPT. 503 

best thing — turn my •watch back half an hour, and 
write on. 

Peculiar interest attaches to the museum of 
this place, because of its mummies. The old 
Egyptians could not paint a beautiful picture, or 
chisel a graceful statue, but they certainly knew 
how to embalm and preserve the human body. 
Let us pass by the "common dead," and go at 
once into the Hall of Royal Mummies. Here we 
find the almost perfectly preserved bodies of twelve 
or fifteen of Egypt's kings. Among them is the 
mummy of Rameses XL, the Pharaoh who ruled 
at the time when Moses was born. All these 
mummies are, of course, in air tight glass cases, 
but are plainly visible. Rameses XI. was a man 
of powerful physique, a small head which is full in 
front, heavy features and hard. Albeit, his face 
betokens strength of character and an iron will. 
There is a far away, dreamy appearance playing 
over his countenance. He looks as if he is think- 
ing about the past. We will not disturb his 
peaceful slumbers. We come next into the pres- 
ence of His Royal Highness, King So Karimsap, 
who is thus labelled: "This is the oldest known 
mummy and is probably 5,700 years old." As the 
king has rather a pleasant and familiar looking 
face, I presume to speak to him. I say: 

"If your Royal Highness will have the goodness 
to excuse a stranger, I should like to ask you a 
few questions." 



504 EGYPT. 

"Quite excusable, sir, proceed," is the fancied 
reply. 

Question. "While ruling Egypt of old, you 
were much honored and revered by your subjects. 
Why, then, did you decide to change your mode 
of existence?" 

Reply — 

"The boast of Heraldry, the pomp of Pow'r, 
And all that Beauty, all that Wealth e'er gave, 
Await, alike, th' inevitable hour ; 
The paths of Glory lead but to the grave." 

"Do you receive the same reverence and hom- 
age now as when vou occupied the throne of 
Egypt?" 

"No; in the world of departed spirits, where 
I now dwell, there is no difference between prince 
and peasant." 

"What! Did not your title and regal attire se- 
cure you a seat of honor?" 

"Ah! no. Purple robes and jeweled crowns 
are no passport to honor here. The robe of 
Christ's righteousness is the only garment that 
admits one into the presence of the pure." 

"But is the robe of righteousness you speak of 
a sure gruarantee of Divine favor?" 

"Never yet has it failed. In your world, a man 
may live in poverty and die in distress; yet, when 
he comes into this world with that spotless gar- 
ment on, all the fiends of hell shrink back in 
horror at his approach, and all the angels of 
Heaven greet him with shouts of joy and anthems 



EGYPT. 505 

of praise. The Master places a crown of gold on 
his brow, and silver slippers on his feet." 

"But I see you have great riches in your coffin 
with you; could you not bribe the doorkeeper, 
and buy your way in.?" 

"Your questions rnock me. What were my 
paltry sum to Him who holds the world in His 
hands. My advice to you is to seek first the 
kingdom of God and His righteousness; to seek 
peace and pursue it; to buy the truth and sell it 
not. These will be worth more to you than wealth 
and titles of honor and power and dominion all 
combined. I would rather be a true disciple of 
the Lord Jesus Christ than wear the brightest dia- 
dem that ever graced a monarch's brow, and know 
Him not." 

Thanking the king for his kindness, and his 
words of wisdom, I bow myself out of his presence. 
The people here talk of "King So Karimsap" as 
though he had lived yesterday, when the truth is 
his light of life went out more than fifty centuries 
before we were born! It is said that "the rail- 
roads in Egypt use mummies for fuel; and on wet 
days the engineers are heard frequently to cry 
out.? 'These plebeians won't burn worth a cent ; 
hand me out a king!' On express trains, it is 
claimed, they use nothing but kings." 

Christmas morning I am up before the lamps 
of night are dimmed by the rising god of day. 
There seems to be a rivalry among the Stella host, 
each trying to outshine its neighbor. Each star 



506 EGYPT. 

twinkles and smiles and laughs and pours a flood 
of glory down. I never saw anything like it — 
there is less of earth than of Heaven in the scene. 
I say "Surely, these are creatures singing the 
praise of their Master — of Him whose birthday 
they fain would celebrate." While yet these balls 
of fire gleam bright from the blue sky above, 
Johnson and I are in the saddle on our way to 
the Pyramids. Yes, in the saddle. In Cairo, 
saddles are street-cars. Egyptian boys, each with 
a fresh-barbered donkey, bridled and saddled, 
throng the streets. The moment a traveler steps 
on the sidewalk, he is doomed. These boys lead- 
ing their donkeys, crowd around him like hungry 
wolves around a helpless lamb. He can not get 
away. The boys are irresistible. They take 
hold of you, and throw you into the saddle, and 
instantly the donkey moves off. Then all the 
boys throw up their caps and halloo, except the 
one whose donkey you are on. He, of course, 
follows you, one hand grasping the donkey's tail 
and the other clutching a stick. The tail is used 
as a rudder to guide the animal, and the stick as 
an argument to persuade him to quicken his al- 
ready fiying steps. Every one rides as if he were 
carrying the mail. Indeed, he can not help it. 
I he donkey is running for life — he must move, or 
be brained on the spot. All persons. give way for 
the coming donkey as if he were a steam engine. 
Christmas Eve was our first experience. We 
had ofotten here the nicrht before. I had heard of 



5o8 EGYPT. 

the donkey boys, but had forgotten all about 
them. Well, as soon as we stepped on the streets, 
"they came, they saw, they conquered!" They 
capture Johnson first. In five minutes, they had 
him on a zebra-looking ass, and were rushing him 
down Palm Avenue at a two-forty pace. I was 
bringing up the rear, but the zebra was all 
the time gaining on me. I would, probably, soon 
have been left far behind, if things had moved 
on smoothly. But Johnson's "flying Dutchman" 
fell — he spilt his rider on one side of the street, 
and he took the other. When I rode up, the boy 
was trying to bring the donkey to by twisting his 
tail. Johnson was on his knees — not at prayer — 
and his hat was Qfone. In five minutes more, 
we were on our way again. We reached the 
American Consul's office in due time, and without 
any broken bones. On our way back, "Yankee 
Doodle" stumbled, and I fell straddle of his neck; 
but on he rushed, faster than before. In vain I 
struggled to get back to the saddle. All other 
efforts having failed, I, in order to regain my 
position, placed my feet on the embankments 
rising up on either side of the rock-hewn path. 
With my feet upon these embankments, I lifted 
myself up for a moment, expecting at the right 
time to sit down in the saddle. But the donkey 
was too quick for me; when I sat down on him 
he was not there. A moment later found my 
head in the ditch, and my heels in the air. We 



EGYPT. 



509 



called at the drug store, and got some salve — ■ 
Johnson is better now. 

Well, as I was going on to say, w^e get an early 




I '1' ! liiiil, 

I iil'i'tt, 
iii '11 iiii 



start to the Pyramids. We meet hundreds of 
camels coming off of the great desert, and donkeys 
without number going into market, laden with hay 



5IO EGYPT. 

and clover, iish, fuel and vegetables. Where we cross 
the Nile, both banks are lined with tall, majestic 
palm trees, the finest I have ever seen. The ris- 
ing sun throws the palm shadows on the river's 
broad bosom. The shadows sink into the blue 
depths below; we see two palm groves standing 
end to end — one above, and one below the water. 
Now, leaving the Nile, and turning directly 
West, we travel along a road that was constructed 
a few years ago by the Khedive for the use of the 
Prince of Wales and party. Unfortunately, I 
am not informed whether the Prince made this 
trip on a donkey or not. I know this, however, 
whether he walked, rode an ass, or was driven in 
a carriage of state, he enjoyed the Pyramids not 
one whit more than I do, I can not help enjoy- 
ing them. They are already looming up before 
me, clearly outlined against the sky. At first, 
they seem to swim in a sea of mirage that rises 
up from the surrounding country — they are com- 
posed of such stuff as dreams are made of. But, 
as I come nearer, that airy nothingness assumes 
definite shape, and takes on colossal proportions. 
At last I stand face to face with a Miracle in 
Stone, the only remaining one of the seven won- 
ders of the ancient world. It is at once the most 
massive and mysterious, the most towering and 
majestic, the oldest, and yet the most enduring, of 
all the works of man. It bursts upon me, at once, 
in all the "flower of its highest perfection." I go 
"back down the stream of time," and breathe the 



EGY^T. ' 511 

atmosphere of five thousand years ago. I see, 
in my imagination, thousands and thousands of 
human slaves, deep down in the bowels of some 
far off mountain, blasting these stones. I see 
them piling the stones upon rough barges, and 
floating them a thousand miles down yonder Nile. 
I see them out here on the desert, clearing away a 
thirteen-acre base, on which to erect a handmade 
mountain. On this thirteen-acre foundation, I 
see the Pyramid rise, block after block, course 
upon course, up. and still up, it goes. These 
blocks of rock, one of which it takes on an aver- 
age two hundred men to raise the eighth of an 
inch from the ground, are lifted high up in the air 
and swung into their destined places with an ex- 
actness that varies not the fraction of an inch. 
Yes, nere is the Pyramid, with its broad base, 
sloping sides, and cloud-piercing summit; but who 
were its builders.^* and where are they.^ Echo 
answers, "who.^^ where.?" 

"Forty centuries look down upon us from the 
Pyramids," and speak to us in trumpet tones of the 
folly of human ambition. Think of the straining, 
the suffering and the sorrowing, that those foolish 
Pyramid-builders caused, in order to have their 
bodies preserved, and their memories perpetuated. 
Their work still stands, but long ago their very 
bones have been ground into powder, and even 
their names are unknown to man. 

The Great Pyramid is 730 feet square at the 
base, and is 460 feet high. "The usual process in 



512 EGYPT. 

Egyptian Pyramid building seems to have been 
to start with an upright column, or needle, of 
rock, and enclose it in a series of steps formed of 
huge blocks of stone. Fresh series of steps were 
added to the outside, till the requisite dimensions 
were obtained. Then the steps were filled up 
with smooth polished stones, covered with sculp- 
ture and inscriptions." Deep down in the Pyra- 
mids v/ere left open chambers and passages, as 
the burial places of the illustrious builder and his 
family. Of course, these interior chambers were 
closed and hermetically sealed. From the Great 
Pyramid, or the Pyramid of Cheops, the outer 
polished stones have been removed, so now there 
remains a series of colossal steps, up which some 
visitors climb to the top. 

To ascend the Pyramid, one must pay a fee to 
the Sheik, who furnishes him with two strong 
Arabs — some travelers require four — to assist him 
up. It would be both difficult and dangerous to 
attempt the ascent alone. The steps are often 
five feet hiofh. There is no chance to catch a 
hand hold, and you have only twelve, and some- 
times six, inches to stand on while you struggle 
to get up. We had two assistants each, yet 
Johnson came very near falling. I was amused, 
and excited, too, when I heard him cry out to the 
Arabs, "Hold me ! hold me ! " 

At the top of the Pyramid, there is a level plat- 
form, about thirty feet square, from which one 
gets a fine view of the surrounding country. Look- 



EGYPT. 513 

ing eastward, I can trace the majestic Nile, in its 
onward sweep toward the ocean, and its fertile 
valley, once the granary of the world. Turning 
toward the setting sun, I look out for miles and 
miles over the arid desert. Not a livine thing- do 
I see, but a caravan of camels, those ships of the 
desert, just starting out on their long journey. 
After descending almost to the ground, we have 
then to slide on our stomachs up an inclined 
plane, on the inside of the Pyramid in order to 
reach the interior chamber, which was long ago 
robbed of its mummied kings. 

A few hundred yards from the Pyramid of 
Cheops stands the colossal Sphynx, which, if pos- 
sible, is a greater wonder than the Pyramid itself. 
The Sphynx is a huge lion with a hyman head. 
It is therefore an emblematic sovereign, combin- 
ing the greatest earthly wisdom with the greatest 
possible strength. I said the Sphynx is colossal. 
Look at it and see for yourself. Its paws are fifty 
feet, and its body one hundred and forty feet in 
length. Its massive head is of proportionate size. 
This image is hewn out of solid stone, and stands 
out before us in giant-like proportions. And yet 
it is so graceful and symmetrical, withal, that we 
half-way forget its size. We are wondering why 
it does not move and walk, why we can not see it 
breathe and roll its eyes. If God would only 
touch the Sphynx, it would instantly become a 
living creature! Its countenance has been de- 
scribed as wearing "an expression of the softest 



514 EGYPT. 

beauty and most winning grace." This, however, 
must have been in the days of its youth. At 
present, it has a furrowed brow and wrinkled. 
Its eyes are deep back in its head, and its jaws are 
firmly set. It wears a pensive, thoughtful look. 

I speak to the Sphynx, but, paying no attention, 
it stands "staring right on, with calm eternal eyes," 
As an old man in his dotage, forgets all that took 
place during the days of his strength and manly 
glory, and thinks only of those things which 
occurred in early life, so this Sphynx stands, with 
memory stretching like rainbow from old age to 
childhood. It is thinking about the confusion of 
tongues that took place around the tower of 
Babel; about the morning when the city of Da- 
mascus was laid out by Uz, the great-grandson of 
Noah; about the day when God -appeared to 
Abraham, and told him to leave the land of Ur 
and go into the land of Canaan. It is thinking 
about the time when Joseph ruled Egypt; when 
Moses was found in the ark of bulrushes, on the 
bosom of yonder Nile; when Pharaoh was swal- 
lowed up by the Red Sea. In middle life, this 
"eternal statue" saw Troy fall and Athens rise. 
In old age, it saw Rome flourish, fade and fall. 

Standing side by side, are the Sphynx and the 
Pyramids, both huge in dimensions, both graceful 
in appearance, both impressive to behold, both 
"ancient as the sun," and both I believe, will be 
among the last earthly objects to yield to the 
"wasting tooth of Time." 



CHAPTER XLIII. 

A BURIED CITY POMPEII. 



i-ong Shut Out of Civilization — Four Days in Gehenna — Paul's Experience Co-In. 
cides with Ours — Dead — Buried —A Stone Against the Door — Raised from 
the Grave — Under an Italian Sky — " See Naples and Die" — Off for the City 
of the Dead — Knocking for Entrance — Earthquake — ^Re-Built — Location of 
the City — Boasted Perfection — City Destro}:ed by a Volcano — Vivid Descrip- 
tion by an Eye- Witness — Rich Field for Excavation — What Has been Found 
— Returns to Get Gold — Poetical Inspiration — Pompeii at Present — Mis- 
taken Dedication. 



FOR some months past I have been breathing 
the atmosphere of Asia and Africa. While 
there I v/as completely shut out from civili- 
zation. I have not received a paper or the scratch 
of a pen from any one in many weeks. I must 
have a letter soon, if I have to write It myself. 

Since leaving Egypt I have been four days on 
the Mediterranean — I had almost said " four days 
In Gehenna." I flattered myself that I was a 
moderately good sailor, but this time I lost my 
sea legs in half an hour after going on board the 
steamer, nor did I discover their whereabouts 
until twelve hours after landing. I thought of 
Paul's experience when making a similar voyage. 
In Acts 27:6 we are told that Paul was put in a 
ship "sailing from Alexandria to Italy." So was 
I. Paul's vessel was struck with a "tempestuous 
wind, called Euroclydon," and was "exceedingly 
tossed with a tempest." So was mine. Paul sail- 



5lfc> A BURIED CITY POMPEII. 

ed close by the islands of Crete and Clauda. So 
did I. I was sea-sick — so was Paul, I suppose. 
Indeed it was a voyage long- to be remembered. 
I am a splendid sailor — on land — but I can not 
navigate a "tempestuous sea." 

Europe again ! I feel as one who has been 
keeping company with the dead, and has now 
been raised from the grave and brought back tc 
the land of the living. Verily, the people of Asia 
and Africa are dead — dead spiritually, dead in 
trespasses and sin, dead to literature and learning, 
dead to the progress the world is making. Not 
only dead, but buried — buried in conceit, in self- 
ishness, in filth and ignorance. Yes, these people 
are dead c.nd buried in a sepulchre, and against 
the door of that sepulchre Poverty has placed a 
stone which naup-ht but the anofels of God can 
remove. Come, O winged angel, come quickly. 
Roll away this stone, that these benighted people 
may be raised up to the nineteenth century and 
to God ! 

I am now on Italian soil in Naples, under a 
soft Italian sky, and God's bright and cheerful 
sunshine, streaming through my window, is falling 
in golden ringlets upon the floor. Naples boasts 
1,000,000 inhabitants, and possesses many charms 
for the traveler. In approaching the city from 
the bay the scene is peculiarly striking. It was 
■perhaps this charming picture that gave rise to 
the saying: "See Naples and die." 

A fine day this to visit Pompeii, which is only 



A BURIED CITY POMPEII. 



517 



fifteen miles away. It is situated on a narrow 
table-land which on one side slopes gently down 
to the bay, and on the other side rises up steep- 




ly to the crest of Mt. Vesuvius. We go by 
train. In half an hour after leaving Naples, we 
hear the conductor shouting: "Pompeii! Pom- 
peii!!" Fifteen minutes later we are standing be- 



5l8 A BURIED CITY POMPEII. 

fore "Porta della Marina," knocking for entrance. 

While waiting- for the keeper to open the gate, 
let me relate as briefly as possible the history of 
this "City of the Dead," as Sir Walter Scott calls 
Pompeii. This city (pro. Pom-/'^jj/-ee) was in a 
flourishing condition hundreds of years before the 
Christian era. It was founded by the Oscans, 
but soon fell under Greek influence and civiliza- 
tion. The Greeks, in turn, were subdued by the 
strong hand of the Caesars and Pompeii became 
a Roman town. 

In A. D. 63, there came an earthquake and a 
slight eruption of Vesuvius, which together de- 
stroyed the greater part of the city. As soon, 
however, as the earth ceased to tremble, and the 
mountain to smoke, the work of re-construction 
began. As in Chicago, after the great fire, the 
debris was removed, the city was enlarged, the 
streets were laid out with greater care and more 
regularity than before. Streams of gold now 
flowed in from every direction. The magician 
waved his wand, and lo ! from the wreck and ruin 
of the past, there rose a city of palatial residences 
and marble temples. Art flourished. Every wall 
was pictured, • every niche held a statue, every 
column was wreathed with a garland of sculptured 
roses. Fountains played, monuments arose in 
honor of Augustus and Nero, triumphal arches 
were flung across the principal entrances to the 
city, the marble forms of mythological gods filled 
the public squares and stood at every street 



A BURIED CITY | POMPEII. 519 

corner. On the fifteenth page of ' The Last Days 
of Pompeii" the author says: "Pompeii was the 
miniature of the civilization of that age. Within 
the narrow compass of its walks was contained, as 
it were, a specimen of every gift which Luxury 
offered to Power. In its minute but glittering 
shops, its tiny palaces, its baths, its forum, its 
theater, its circus, in the energy yet corruption, in 
the refinement yet the vice of its people, you be- 
held a model of the whole empire. It was a toy, 
a play thing, a show-box, in which the gods seem- 
ed pleased to keep the representation of the great 
monarchy of Earth, and which they afterward hid 
from Time to give to the wonder of Posterity!" 

This "miniature city," rising from the midst of 
a luxuriant vineyard, stood on a beautiful table 
land and was girt around with a strong wall. 
Back behind the city, and close at hand, rose the 
awful form of that sleeping volcano. The ambit- 
ious vine had climbed up and spread its fruitful 
branches over the crater itself. Purple clusters 
of luscious fruit silently slept in the sunshine, 
high aloft on the mountain side. Just below the 
city, in front and to the south, was the glassy Bay 
of Naples covered with vessels of commerce, and 
gilded galleys of the rich. All in all, Pompeii and 
its surroundings formed one of the most pleasing 
pictures that ever greeted the human eye. 

Pompeii had just reached its boasted perfection 
when, on the 24th of August, A. D. 79, fifty years 
after the Crucifixion, it was destoyed by Vesuvius. 



520 A BURIED CITY POMPEII. 

Pliny, whose mother was among those burled 
alive, wrote two letters to his friend, the historian 
Tacitus, in which letters he gives a graphic de- 
scription of this fearful scene. He speaks of "the 
premonitory earthquakes, day turned into night, 
the extraordinary agitation of the sea, the dense 
clouds over-hanging the land and sea, and riven 
by incessant flashes of lightning, the emission of 
fire and ashes the descent of streams of lava, and 
the universal terror of men, who believed the end 
of the world has arrived." At the time of the 
eruption many of the houses were closed; hence 
they were not filled, but simply surrounded by 
and covered with ashes. This of course excluded 
all air. Thus many houses were hermetically 
sealed, as was also the city itself. Of the 30,000 
souls dwelling in Pompeii, 2,000 or more perished 
with the city. Pompeii, being built entirely of 
stone, marble and granite did not burn, but was 
simply buried beneath this incumbent mass. For 
1,700 years it was wrapped in ashes and hid from 
the face of the earth. For centuries its very site 
was unknown, and even its name forgotten. "But 
earth, with faithful watch, has hoarded all," and 
during the last few years much of the buried city 
has been unearthed and brought to lipfht. 

What a rich field for excavation! It has prov- 
ed an inexhaustible store-house of wealth, and a 
perfect treasury of art. Great quantities of gold 
and silver coins and jewelry, frescoes, pictures, 
statuary, household furniture, and cooking utensils, 



A BURIED CITY POMPEII. 52I 

have been found ; also several large loaves of 
bread in a perfect state of preservation, and jars 
of pickled olives. How strange to have one's 
appetite tempted by articles of food that were 
prepared for those who lived 1,700 years ago! 

Many dogs and horses, and not less than three 
to four hundred human bodies, have been discov- 
ered. Eighteen bodies were in one room. You 
see to-day the contortions their bodies were in, 
and the expression their countenances wore, at the 
moment of death. Their tangled and disheveled 
hair is clotted with ashes. In the excitement and 
confusion of that awful hour, the terror-stricken 
inhabitants of the doomed city ran to and fro 
through the streets, calling upon their gods for 
safety and deliverance. They were over-powered 
by the falling shower of ashes and cinders. They 
threw themselves upon the ground, their faces 
upon their arms. At this moment, the sluggish 
stream of wet ashes which poured forth from 
Vesuvius passed over them. Many no doubt 
welcomed death. For seventeen centuries their 
quiet slumbers were undisturbed. 

One man was found with ten pieces of gold in 
one hand, and a large key in the other. Gold, 
however, was no bribe to the fiery fiend. But for 
that gold, the owner might have escaped; but no, 
he must return to get it. He would not leave it. 
Hence he did not leave at all. I know many men 
who are acting as foolishly to-day, as this citizen 
of Pompeii did ages ago. Many a man says: "I 



522 A BURIED CITY POMPEII. 

will make my fortune; I will get my gold first, and 
then look to my soul's welfare." O reader, the 
day of judgment is at hand! "Flee from the 
wrath to come;" "flee for thy life." "Seek first 
the kingdom of God and His righteousness," and 
then get your gold. 

Some of these bodies are adorned now as on 
the day of death, with rings and bracelets and 
necklaces. 

The most poetical thing, perhaps, that Pompeii 
has yielded to modern research is two bodies, male 
and female, who died in each other's arms. Let 
us imagine these persons in the spring-time of 
life, with the dew of youth still fresh upon their 
brows; that the girl was beautiful and accorn- 
plished, the man strong and true and brave; that 
their hearts had been touched by Love's magic 
wand, and made one; that when on that August 
day darkness came, when the earth shook, and 
the volcano poured forth molten streams of fire 
and consternation, he could have escaped, but he 
would not go without her. He sought her and 
she sought him. But when they found each other 
she was weak and exhausted and could go no 
farther. She said: "Go, loved one; go save, save 
thyself!" He replied: "Leave thee, never! Let 
the thunder roar and the lightnings flash; let the 
earth reel and the mountains pour forth their 
fiery streams of death; I die with you rather than 
live without you!" So saying, they embraced 



A BURIED CITY POMTEII. 523 

each other and perished. That embrace is still 
unbroken. 

As I gaze upon the bodies of these faithful 
lovers, I fancy, for the time, that I am a poet with 
the harp of Apollo in my hand. Heavenly breezes 
sweep across the strings of that golden lyre, and 
wake for me a song which, for pathos and sweet- 
ness, rivals the minstrelsy of angels. 

At present Pompeii is protected by the same 
wall that surrounded it when Christ was born in 
Bethlehem. The city is laid bare. Every thing 
is clean and neat. The streets are narrow, but 
straight and well paved with broad flags of lava. 
These stone-like pavements are worn in some 
places eight or ten inches deep by the chariot 
wheels that used to thunder along these busy 
streets. 

All houses of Pompeii are now roofless, though 
otherwise most of them are perfectly preserved. 
They are usually one story high. The walls 
were, and are still, covered with beautiful frescoes. 
Mythology was a favorite subject for the painter — 
everywhere we see pictures of Minerva, Apollo, 
Jupiter, Bacchus, and Hercules performing his 
twelve labors. The floors, clean as any parlor, 
are inlaid with rich mosaics, representing histor- 
ical events, gladitorial contests, etc. 

As one walks the streets of Pompeii on a 
moon-light night, the ghost of the past rises up 
before him. He has read in history about the 
luxury, pomp, and splendor of ancient Rome, but 



524 A BU^RIED CITY POMPEII. 

here he sees a Roman city as it was in the golden 
days of Nero. One who has a vivid imagination, 
can stand here at night and easily people these 
palaces, streets, and theatres with the pleasure- 
loving Romans of 2,000 years ago. Ah, how 
they thronged these streets! How eagerly they 
crowded into the amphitheatre to see the gladi- 
ators measure swords with each other; to see 
men pitted against ferocious lions and tigers, 
against wild bulls and boars ! 

When their city was finished and the wall 
around it completed, the Pompeiians decided that 
they needed a protector. Finally the honor was 
accorded to Minerva. Accordingly a huge and 
magnificent marble statue of this Goddess was 
prepared and erected near Porta della Marina — 
the Marine Gate — the principal entrance to the 
city. This faultless statue was itself about twelve 
feet high, and stood upon a pedestal of equal 
altitude. In her left hand the Goddess held a 
shield, her right grasped a spear, while her brow 
was graced with the victor's wreath. The ap- 
pointed day came. The people assembled around 
the statue, wdiile the best orators of Rome and 
the world pronounced glowing eulogies upon the 
new city and the wise Goddess. Thus Pompeii 
was dedicated and formally turned over to Mi- 
nerva for her protection. And protect it she did 
as long as it needed no protection. But wait until 
that fatal night. The protector was then insensi- 
ble to the trembling earth, deaf to the pealing 



A BURIED CITY POMPEII. 525 

thunder, blind to the flashing liorhtnino- that 
wreathed her brow. She heard not the cries of 
her terror-stricken people. She raised not her 
shield nor lifted her spear to stay the calamity. 
The heavens darkened, the ocean heaved, the 
mountain reeled, cataracts of fire came leaping 
down the steeps and rolling on towards the city. 
Yet there stood Minerva blind, dumb, mute, and 
motionless, able to protect neither herself nor 
the city! 

If the Pompeiians had dedicated their city to 
the Great I Am, who "guides His people with His 
eye," and whose "ear is ever open to their cries," 
its history might have been different. Now read- 
er, allow the author to suggest that you dedicate 
your life, not to the blind goddess of wealth or of 
fashion, but to that God who is "a very present 
help in every time of need" — to that God who 
delivered Peter from prison, and rescued Daniel 
from the lion's den. 



CHAPTER XLIV. 



VESUVIUS IN ACTION AS IT LOOKS BY DAY AND 

BY NIGHT. 



As it Looks by Day and by Night — Leaving Naples — First Sight of Vesuvius- 
Description — The Number of Volcanoes — Off to See the Burning Mountain — 
A Nameless Horse — Respect for Age — Refuse Portantina — Mountain of Shot 
— A Dweller in a Cave— A Slimy Serpent for a Companion — Jets of Steam — 
Vulcan's Forge— Exposed to a Horrible Death — Upheavals of Lava — Show- 
ers of Fire — Fiery Fiends — Winged Devils — Tongue of Fire — A Voice of 
Thunder. 



ITALY, as the reader will remember, is in the 
shape of a boot, and you find Mt. Vesuvius 
on the instep of that boot. 

Leaving Naples by train we skirt along the 
beautiful bay by the same name and step off, 
as in the last chapter, at Pompeii, some fifteen 
miles from the starting point. Mt. Vesuvius now 
lifts its majestic form before us, and I am sure 
that if we should live to be as old as Methuse- 
lah, we can never forget its awful, yet pictures- 
que and beautiful appearance. 

Take if you please a deep soup plate and turn 
it bottom upwards on your table. Next get a 
teacup and turn that bottom upwards on the 
center of the plate. Now imagine the table to 
be a broad, fertile field covered with vines. Imag- 
ine the plate to be fifteen miles in circumference, 
and that it swells from the plain and lifts itself 



■f.J^(5?K 





MOUNT VESUVIUS IN ACTION. 



VESUVIUS IN ACTION. 527 

up until the cup, rising- sharp-pointed like a huge 
pyramid, reaches to the height of 4,200 feet. This 
is Mt. Vesuvius, and you must know that it is as 
black as charcoal and roug^h as a tree that has 
been a thousand times struck by lightning. It is 
hollow like a cup and is open at the top as the 
inverted cup would be if the bottom were out. 

As I stand gazing at Vesuvius, it is slowly 
emitting a huge volume of white, sulphurous 
smoke or steam which rises stralo-ht like a 
mighty shaft of marble for a thousand feet above 
the crater, then gracefully curving, the column 
stretches itself across the glassy bay of Naples 
for ten miles or more until finally it joins itself 
with the fleecy clouds. What a picture it pre- 
sents! There is the great city throbbing with 
life; the silvery bay flecked with white-winged and 
smoke-plumed vessels; there is the broad, fertile 
plain, covered with fruit-bearing vineyards, and 
dotted here and there with small, rude and dilapi- 
dated peasant villages; there are the black moun- 
tain and the white column of steam, clearly out- 
lined against the rich blue, Italian sky. Such a 
scene, I am sure, could not fail to wake a song 
from the poet, or inspire the artist to put forth 
his best endeavors. 

There are about 650 volcanoes in existence, but 
Dr. Hartwig says, "For the naturalist's researches, 
for the traveler's curiosity and the poet's song, 
Etna and Vesuvius surpass in renown all other 
volcanic regions in the world." Knowino- that 




CLIMBING MOUNT VESUVIUS. 



VESUVIUS IN ACTION. 529 

Vesuvius is so noted, I am anxious to observe the 
phenomena closely, and to do this I must cross 
the plain and ascend the mountain. We can not 
go alone and it is too far to walk. Securing our 
horses and a guide, we set out on the journey. 

Johnson's horse is named Maccaroni; mine has 
no name; he had one once, but has long ago 
worn it out. I am at a loss to know what to 
name him. I can not conscientiously call him 
Baalbek, for he is not a "magnificent" ruin. But 
I can with perfect propriety, and without a sacri- 
fice of principle, call him Pompeii, "an ancient 
ruin." He looks as if he might have been in the 
doomed city on that fatal day, and as if he has 
not yet recovered from the ill effects of that day's 
experience. His teeth are out, his mane is gone, 
he has no tail. His backbone is so much in the 
shape of a razor blade, that it has split the saddle 
wide open, fore and aft. The two parts are 
.roped together, and carelessly thrown across the 
skeleton. This protects me somewhat, and I 
would be moderately comfortable if the saddle did 
not hang too far to the starboard side. Albeit I 
have great respect for that horse — his age de- 
mands it. No horse can go higher than the foot 
of the cone — the cup. Here dismounting, I am 
at once accosted by a swarm of Italians who 
want to assist me up the cone. It takes four of 
these swarthy athletes to carry one pilgrim up. 
They put him in a "portantina," a kind of chair 
made for the purpose. The four men, taking this 



530 VESUVIUS IN ACTION. 

chair on their shoulders, begin the ascent, stop- 
ping quite frequently to rest. Other assistants 
have straps or ropes, which they put around the 
pilgrim just below the arms; then two men, each 
holding one end of the rope, walk in front and 
thus draw their victim up. Many Italians earn a 
livelihood in this way. I do not avail myself of 
their proffered help — I can not bear to impose on 
good nature. 

Yes, I go alone, but I frankly confess it is hard 
work. The ascent is very steep. In my school- 
boy days I climbed many trees, tall, smooth 
bodied and limbless, after young squirrels, grapes 
and chestnuts. Since then I have climbed many 
mountains. I have climbed the Rocky Moun- 
tains. I have climbed mountains in Mexico, in 
Virginia, West Virginia, Maine, New Hampshire, 
Vermont and Canada. I have climbed mountains 
in England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales; in Ger- 
many and France, in Switzerland and Italy, in 
Austria and Hungary, in Servia and Roumania, 
in Bulgaria and Slavonia, in Greece, Russia and 
Asia Minor, in Palestine, Syria and Arabia. I 
have climbed the Pyramids of Egypt. But I have 
never climbed anything that wearied me as does 
the ascent of Vesuvius. It is like climbing a 
mountain of shot. I sink at each step half leg 
deep in charcoal and ashes. I frequently stumble 
and fall. It is uphill business, I am walking on 
snow and sniffing the mountain breeze, yet the 



VESUVIUS IN ACTION. 53I 

perspiration, rolls off of me like rain — a light 
shower of course. 

By this time we come to where the footing is 
more firm and solid, but the way not less trying 
and difficult. There are many narrow and yawn- 
ing crevices to cross, many deep openings to shun 
on the right and left — some of them large enough 
to swallow a good-sized house. Perchance it was 
one of these dark caverns wherein dwelt that lazy 
hag, with a fox and a slimy serpent as her sole 
companions — I mean that weird witch who curs- 
ed Glaucus and lone and helped Arbaces, the 
Egyptian, to work out his diabolical purposes. 
This part of the cone is composed of black and 
hardened lava, hideously rough and jagged, por- 
ous as honeycomb. Here and there small jets of 
smoke and hot steam, some of them no larger 
than my thumb, others as large as my arm, or 
twice as large, can be seen spouting from the 
crevices and openings. We frequently stop and 
warm our feet at these "flues," but the flames are 
so strongly impregnated with sulphur that we can 
not stand it long at a time. We are now within 
two hundred yards of the top. It looks danger- 
ous to go farther, but our guide says we have 
only to follow him, and follow him we do. After 
scaling with great difficulty and some danger the 
steep and rocky sides, we reach the crater's brink 
and look down into Vulcan's Forge, into that 
deep and awful abyss from which clouds of sul- 
phurous vapors are rising as from the gates of 



532 VESUVIUS IN ACTION. 

perdition. A strong wind blowing from the north 
drives the smoke and steam in the opposite direc- 
tion. This enables us to see bett«r and induces 
us to venture too near the edge. All at once the 
wind changes and suddenly we are enveloped in 
dense fumes of sulphur. To retreat in the dark 
is perilous — to remain long in this sulphur is 
death. I swallow some of the steam which is 
so strong with sulphur that it instantly scalds my 
throat and lungs. What can be done! Johnson 
and I have hold of each other's hands. I fall to 
the ground pulling him with me. Thus by keep- 
ing our mouths close to the ground, we manage 
to get fresh air enough to keep from being suffo- 
cated. When the wind shifts and the smoke lifts, 
we lose no time in changing to a less dangerous 
place. Some time ago a German was unfortunate 
enouofh to fall into this fearful chasm. What an 
awful death! How thankful I am for God's pre- 
serving care! 

By this time night has come, and as we stand in 
darkness, looking down into this fearful abyss, 
we can see the lurid flames writhing and leaping, 
casting up great quantities of glowing brimstone 
and red'hot lava hundreds of feet into the air. 
The next moment the lava is falling around us in 
showers of living fire. T! e pieces are of all 
shapes and vary greatly in size. While some of 
them are no larger than a marble, others are 
large as a saucer — perchance as large as a plate. 

Deep down below us we hear the boiling cal- 



VESUVIUS IN ACTION. 533 

drons of lava grinding, gurgling, growling. Now 
we hear the report of big guns and little guns, of 
musketry and of cannon, as if the damned are 
bombarding each other with the artillery of hell! 
Report chases report through the subterranean 
caverns like deep thunder galloping after thunder. 
The angry flames continue to leap and crackle. 
Occasionally the whole crater, which looks like 
the veritable mouth of hell, glows with intense 
brilliancy and glitters and sparkles with ten thou- 
sand points of dazzling light. The volume of 
steam, or "the mighty column of wreaths and 
curling heaps of lighted vapor," continue to pour 
forth with a frightful rapidity. Every moment 
witnesses a new upheaval of red-hot lava and 
consequently a fresh shower of fire. 

The guide now informs me (I did not know it 
before) that the night is far spent, and yet there 
are other things to see. Going round on the 
northeast side of the mountain and descendinp' a 
few hundred yards from the top, we come to a 
stream of red-hot lava — an actual river of fire — 
bursting forth from the mountain side and flowing 
down into the valley. It looks like a stream of 
melted iron slowly winding its way adown the 
blackened mountain-side, bearing upon its heated 
bosom great quantities of glowing brimstone and 
red-hot rocks. Ever and anon the rocks in the 
stream dash against each other with such force as 
to break themselves to pieces, then follow a slight 
explosion and blaze. The angry flames like fiery 



534 VESUVIUS IN ACTION. 

fiends leap into the air and vanish. As one 
stands enveloped in the blackness of the night, 
contemplating this wonderful phenomenon — these 
flames, suddenly bursting and vanishing, chasing 
each other in quick succession, look like the 
incessant flashes of lurid lightning! Flame rises 
after flame, vanishing away in the darkness like 
winored devils chasing- each other! I am filled 
with admiration, and at the same time struck with 
awe and chilled with fear. I do not know at what 
moment the whole volcano may boil over and 
pour forth a thousand cataracts of fire, as in 1872. 
I feel that I want to go, that I must go, yet I can 
not leave. I go a few paces and stop, looking 
first at the glowing column above me, then at the 
winding, fiery stream below. 

I have seen many mountains, some of them 
rising to heaven, covered with snow, and at night 
crowned with stars; but never before have I seen 
one smoke-plumed and wreathed with flame, one 
belching forth fire and brimstone, one whose 
iron-belted sides poured forth a river of fire — a 
moving flood of flame. But why continue } 
Why describe the indescribable? For, reader, I 
assure you that unless I, like Vesuvius, had a 
tongue and a voice of thunder, unless words were 
gems that would flame and flash with many-color- 
ed light upon the canvas and throw thence a 
tremulous -glimmer into the beholder's eyes, it 
were vain indeed to attempt a description of 
God's imperial fire-works. 



CHAPTER XLV. 



ROME ANCIENT AND MODERN. 



The Mother of Empires — Weeps and Will not be Comforted — Nero's Golden 
Palace — Ruined Greatness — Time, the Tomb-Builder — Papal Rome — The 
Last Siege — Self-Congratulations — Better Out-Look — :The Seven-Hilled City — 
Vanity of Vanities — The Pantheon — Nature Slew Him — The Shrine of All 
Saints. 



CAESER and Cicero, Horace and Hadarin, 
Claudius and Cataline, have all passed away, 
but "the mother of empires " is still enthron- 
ed upon her seven hill. "Still enthroned.?" Yes, 
but her regal brow is no longer crowned with 
glory. From her right hand has fallen that golden 
scepter which once ruled the world, and from her 
left, the palm branch of victory which she once 
proudly waved on high. The luster has faded 
from her eyes. She sits today upon her seven 
hills, not as a queen, but as a mourner. She is as 
a widow in her weeds, as a mother broken-hearted 
and sad. Like Rachel of old she weeps for her 
children, she weeps and will not be comforted, for 
they are not. 

No, "they are not." In vain the traveler 
searches for Julius Caeses and Augustus. He 
finds where the one fell at the base of Pompey's 
statue, and where the ashes of the other were laid 
to rest in that splendid mausoleum. Nothing 



536 ROME ANCIENT AND MODERN. 

more. Only enough of that precious metal was 
rescued from " Nero's golden palace " to gild one 
page of history ; that is all. 

Modern Rome, compared with the imperial city, 
is nothing but a confused mass of " ruined great- 
ness " thrown into the deep, dark chasm lying 
between the past and the present. "If we con- 
sider the present city as at all connected with the 
famous one of old," says Hawthorne, " it is only 
because it is built over its grave." Imperial Rome 
was a corpse that no survivor was mighty enough 
to bury. But Time — "Time the tomb-builder" — 
did not despair. Age after age passed by, each 
shaking the dust of his feet upon the ruined city, 
until now the "Rome of ancient days" is thirty 
feet below surface. Time silently boasts of his 
triumphs, but the day is coming when even Time 
himself will be swallowed up by eternity! 

Gibbon can tell you more about ancient Rome 
than I can. I shall therefore deal with the past 
only in so far as "the very dust of Rome is his- 
toric," and that dust inevitably settles down upon 
my page and mixes with my ink. 

Until seventeen years ago Rome was an in- 
dependent city; it belonged to no government 
and formed a part of no country; it was "Papal 
Rome." In other words, it wholly belonged to, 
and was entirely controlled by, the Pope of 
Rome — the spiritual head — I had almost said the 
"spiritless head" — of the Catholic church. Thirty 
thousand French soldiers were stationed in Rome 



ROME ANCIENT AND MODERN. 



537 



to protect the Pope and defend the city. When, 
in 1870, the Franco-German war broke out Napo- 
leon the Third was compelled to recall his troops 




from Rome, that they might join the army against 
Germany. As soon as the French withdrew, Vic- 
tor Emmanuel, King of Italy, marched an army 
against the Papal city, saying, "Again, I swear the 
Eternal City shall be free!" 



53o ROME ANCIENT AND MODERN. 

Resistance was of short duration. The national 
flae was soon unfurled from the dome of the 
Pantheon and from that day Rome has been the 
home of the king, the capital of United Italy. 
The Rome of that period (1870) was described 
as a city of "sunless alleys," and "a thousand evil 
smells mixed up with fragrance of rich incense, 
diffused from as many censers; everywhere a 
cross, and nastiness at the foot of it," "The city 
is filled," the writer continues, "with a gloom and 
languor that depress it beyond any depth of mel- 
ancholic sentiment that can elsewhere be known." 
One-seventh of the city was occupied by convents 
and monasteries. Rome at that time had a popu- 
lation of 216,000 souls, more than half of whom 
could neither read nor write! This, then, is 
Catholicism — ignorance clothed in rags, living in 
poverty, walking in filth, praying to saints and 
bowing to an ambitious Pope! If this be religion, 
the less I have of it the more I congratulate my- 
self. For centuries the city belonged to the 
church, and it is natural to suppose that Popery 
created for itself an atmosphere that was most 
congenial to its own spiri^-. Ignorance is the 
handmaid of Popery. Indeed, a man to be a good 
Catholic must be ignorant. Me may, perchance, 
be legally learned, he may be thoroughly versed 
in the laws of locric and lanofuaofe; but to be a 
devout Romanist he must at least be ignorant of 
the Bible. As civilization advances, as the light 
of God's truth becomes more widely diffused and 



ROME ANCIENT AND MODERN. 539 

the warmth of His Spirit more generally felt, 
darkness will flee away, truth will be revealed in 
its purity, and Christ, Christ the Lord, will be 
elevated to the position which the Papal world of 
to-day assigns to Peter. 

Great changes have been wrought in Rome 
within the last seventeen years. A number of the 
streets have been broadened and straightened 
and others are beinof worked on. Most of them 
now, though still narrow, are well paved and 
clean. The population has increased to 350,000, 
sixty schools have been established with 550 
teachers and 25,000 pupils. Most of the improve- 
ments and inventions of the age have been intro- 
duced into the city, a healthy trade with the 
outside world has been established, and last, and 
greatest, the gospel of Christ has again been 
brought to these people. The populace welcome 
these changes. 

Victor Emmanuel, who died ten years ago, is 
called the father of his country ; and his son, the 
present king, is the idol of Italy. The Pope and 
the king are at enmity. Each is jealous of the 
other. The king is fast gaining favor. Papacy 
must ofo. 

Now, turning from the moral, I must tell you 
something about the physical appearance of the 
city at present. Of course every one knows that 
Rome is situated on seven hills, that it is divided 
into two parts by the river Tiber and that it is 



540 ROME ANCIENT AND MODERN. 

surrounded by a massive wall thirty feet high and 
sixteen miles longf. 

Let us now go into the midst of the city and 
take our stand nn the Capitoline Hill. From 
there we can easily "view the landscape o'er." 
Beneath us, as we stand on this elevation, the 
city spreads wide away in all directions. We 
look out over a sea of red-tile roofs, above which 
rise hundreds of imposing palaces, of tall and 
stately mansions. Of church spires and cathedral 
towers there is no end. Yonder to the south is 
the Mausoleum of Auofustus,a huee circular build- 
ing with a low, flat dome of glass. After death 
the emperor was burnt. His ashes, which were 
here laid to rest, have long since been scattered 
to the four winds of heaven and the mausoleum 
is now used as a theatre. There, too, in the same 
direction, but beyond the Tiber, is the tomb of 
Hadrian, looking like an old castle perched high 
upon an uplifted rock. The unscrupulous Ital- 
ians of the present have no respect for the dead 
of ancient days. Their desecrating hands have 
turned this tomb into a military stronghold — 
a citadel. What is fame? Once upon a time 
Augustus ruled the world. To-day the populace 
assemble in his mausoleum; there they wildly 
clap their hands, and, stretching their mouths 
from ear to ear, they shout aloud and grin like 
apes as they see the vile actor dancing over 
Caesar's ashes. Hadrian, once adored as a God, 
is no longer respected. The half-paid soldiers of 



ROME ANCIENT AND MODERN. 54I 

to-day have entered his very tomb; there they 
fight, drink and curse and play cards. If they 
could find it they would use his skull as a soup- 
dish or a billiard ball, and his thigh bones they 
would use for drum-sticks or as mallets to crack 
nuts! "Vanity of vanities, all is vanity!" 

Turning our eyes in a northwest direction, we 
see the Antonine column rising majestically above 
the red roofs. In close proximity to this column, 
we see the circular dome of that world-renowned 
Pantheon "looking heavenward with its ever open 
eye." We leave the Capitoline Hill for a few 
minutes while we go to visit the Pantheon. It 
commands our respect. It was build almost a 
half century before the angel host visited the 
shepherds upon the plains of Bethlehem, and yet 
it is as perfect to-day as though it had been fin- 
ished yesterday. It looks as if it might stand 
until Gabriel comes. It is the noblest structure 
that the old Romans bequeathed to posterity. 
Its m.assive walls and solid, which are twenty feet 
thick, rise to an immense height, and yet the 
dome, broad as it is high, towers 140 feet above 
the walls. 

The portico (no feet wide and 45 feet deep) is 
borne by sixteen Corinthian columns of -granite, 
thirteen feet in circumference and forty feet high. 

The spacious interior, lighted by a single aper- 
ture in the centre of the dome, produces in the 
beholder a most pleasing sensation. Indeed, it 
is by some supposed that the beautiful effect pro- 



542 ROME ANCIENT AND MODERN, 

duced upon the interior by the light streaming in 
through this one opening, is what first suggested 
the name of Pantheon — a resemblance to the blue 
vault of heaven. But of course the current belief 
is that the purpose for which the building was 
used determined its name — Pantheon (Pan, all, 
and Theos, god) — a temple dedicated to all gods. 
The smooth surface of the walls is broken by 
seven niches, in which stood marble statues of 
Roman divinities, among which may be mentioned 
Mars and Venus. And after his assassination, 
Caesar himself was elevated to the dignity of a 
god. His statue graced one of the niches, and 
was, no doubt, worshiped by the same fickle mul- 
titude who rejoiced when the dagger drank his 
blood. 

This splendid edifice, built by the ancients, and 
dedicated two thousand years ago to the worship 
of heathen gods, is now used as a Christian 
Church. To the left of the door as we enter is 
the tomb of Raphael, the greatest of all painters. 
In accordance with his will, a marble statue of 
Madonna has been placed above his splendid 
tomb. The following beautiful inscription shows 
the high esteem Italians have for this divinely 
gifted artist: 

"Beneath this stone rest the ashes of Raphael, 
the greatest of all painters. 
Nature, becoming jealous of him 

lest he should surpass her, 
Slew him while he was yet young." 



ROME ANCIENT AND MODERN. 



D4j 



Victor Emmanuel, and many other men of re- 
nown, are also buried within these time-honored 
walls. Of the Pantheon Lord Byron says: 

"Simple, erect, severe, austere, sublime — 
Shrine of all saints and temple of all gods, 
From Jove to Jesus — spared and blest by time ; 
Looking tranquillity while falls and nods 
Arch empire each thing round thee, and man plods 
His way through thorns to ashes — glorious dome ! 
Shalt thou no last ? Time's scythe and tyrants' rods 
Shiver upon thee — sanctuary and home 
Of art and piety — Pantheon ! — pride of Rome ! 
Relic of nobler days and noblest arts ! 
Despoiled, yet perfect, with thy circle spreads 
A holiness appeahng to all hearts 
To art a model ; and to him who treads 
Rome for the sake of ages, Glory sheds 
Her light through thy sole aperture ; to those 
Who worship, here are altars for their beads ; 
And they who feel for genius may repose 
Their eyes on honored forms, whose busts around them 
close." 



CHAPTER XLVI. 

ROME ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 



A Question Asked — Answer Given — Nature as Teacher — Italians as Pupils — Great 
Artists — The Inferno — The Cardinal in Hell — The Popes Reply — A Thing of 
Beauty — The Beloved — The Transfiguration — Architecture — Marble Men 
Struggle to Speak — Resplendent Gems. 



^<'T THAT are the chief features of Rome?" 
Wl was the second question asked me by 
a friend whom I met yesterday. "Art 
and Architecture," was the unhesitating reply. 
Indeed hesitation was unnecessary; my mind was 
already made up on that point, and there can be 
no question as to the correctness of the answer. 
Nature seems to have implanted a love for Art 
in the sons of Italy, and whispered its secrets to 
them as to no other people. She teaches them 
by object lessons. At night she embosoms the 
moon in her soft blue sky like a silver crescent in 
a velvet cushion, and the stars with their new 
polished lustre seem to bestud God's diamond 
throne. In the morning the same azure sky is 
"flecked with blushes and gattled with fire. ' As 
the Italian at the evening hour stands under the 
sunny vine, on the green hillside, looking at the 
glowing, lighted west through the molten bars of 
twilight; as he sees the purple clouds, lying along 
the horizon, fade from rich purple to pale blue — 



ROME ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 545 

from blue to lavender — to pink — to scarlet — then 
to banks of molten gold ; as he beholds the im- 
perial splendors of the setting sun "vast mirrored 
on the sea," — he gathers inspiration — his soul 
catches the fire — the whole scene is photographed 
on the landscape of his memory. He there learns 
how best to blend his colors, and next day as he 
stands before his canvas beauty hangs upon his 
brush like sparks of livid light. 

Angelo, Raphael, and Di Vinci were pupils of 
Nature. Once upon a time Socrates, after listen- 
ing to his pupils discourse on philosophy, arose 
and, pointing to them, said: "What greater honor 
could a teacher ask than to have such pupils as 
Plato and Xenophon.^^ " And methinks after see- 
ing the Final Judgment of the first. The Trans- 
figuration of the second, and The Last Supper of 
the third. Nature herself would rise and, pointing 
to them with pride, say: "What greater honor 
could I, even I, ask than to have such pupils as 
Angelo, Raphael, and Di Vinci ! " 

After Dante had written " The Inferno," the 
people of Florence as they saw him walking 
through the streets, would shrink from him and 
whisper, " That is the Tnan zvho was in helir "It 
were impossible," they said, " for one to write 
about the infernal world as Dante did, without 
having seen it." The same thought impresses it- 
self upon one as he beholds The Final Judgment. 
One says, "that picture was surely painted by an 
eye-witness." Indeed you see no picture — you 



546 ROME ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 

see the fina' judgmen itself You see Christ as 
judge, coming on the clouds, preceded by Gabriel 
and followed by a legion of angels. You see the 
assembled multitude, people from every nation, 
kindred, tribe and tongue, standing in the back 
o-round breathless, awaitingf the decision of the 
Judge. You see the remorse, the anguish, the 
misery the woe of those who are led to the left 
and hurled headlong into the fiery pit below! 
Their expression convinces you that they realize 
in their hearts that no rainbow of hope will ever 
again brighten their skies, no note of mercy will 
ever more peal in their ears. You see the pleas- 
ure the joy the rapture, the ecstasy, that gladdens 
the hearts and illuminates the faces, of those who 
hear the welcome plaudit — "Well done, good md 
faithful servants — enter ye into the joy of your 
Lord." After seeing this picture one can but say: 
' Michael Angelo saw the fmal judgment, and 
showee i me." 

Soon after this picture was begun, one of the 
Cardinals o Rome, objecting to the artist's de- 
sign, interfered with the work. Angelo refused 
to make any alterations in his plan. The Cardi- 
nal demanded a change, whereupon Angelo gave 
up the engagement The Cardina' then sent for 
other celebrated artists and requested them to 
finish the picture. Each and all of them declared 
that the work was beyond their scope and power. 
They all agreed that Michael Angelo was the 
only living man who could finish so perfect a 



ROME ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 547 

piece of work. The Cardinal now sent for An- 
gelo but he refused to have any further communi- 
cation with that prelate. , 

Finally the Pope himself interviewed the artist 
on the subject and agreed that he might finish 
the picture according to the first design, or ac- 
cordinor to anv other desig^n that he migfht choose. 
The Pope further agreed that the artist should 
not be interfered with in his work, and when once 
finished the picture should never be altered or 
changed. With this understanding Angelo re- 
sumed, and in due time finished, his work. 

When the day of exhibition came, thousands of 
people gathered to see the picture When the 
curtain was drawn aside the astonished multitude 
recognized the Cardinal in hell. ' In hell he lifted 
up his eyes." When the Cardinal saw himself 
amono- the damned his wrath was kindled more 
than a little He went to the Pope in a rage and 
asked to be rescued The Pope replied to the 
Cardinal, "If you were in purgatory I could get 
you out, but you know that according to the 
Catholic faith, when a man is once in hell he has 
to stay there. I can do nothing for you." So 
the poor Cardinal is in hell — according to the 
picture. 

This wonderful picture, sixty-four feet in 
breadth covers almost the entire south end of 
the world-famed Sistine ChapeL This is a pri- 
vate chapel in the Vatican, the Pope's palace. 
"Sistine," because built by Sixtus, and famous 



548 ROME ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 

because of the picture just mentioned, and the 
frescoes on the ceiling by the same gifted artist. 

These frescoes represent Bible scenes, large as 
life, impressive as death, yet beautiful beyond 
description. The artist begins at a time when 
everything is "without form and void," The first 
picture represents God, with motion of his arms, 
bringing law and order out of chaos and con- 
fusion. In the second, God with outstretched 
hands creates the sun and moon. We see the 
creation of Adam and the formation of Eve, then 
the temption in and expulsion from Eden. Fi- 
nally we see the ark floating on the waters with 
several small boats clinging to and following 
after it. Some of the mountain-tops, not yet sub- 
merged, are crowded with terror-stricken multi- 
tudes, who, in their excitement, wildly but vainly 
stretch out their hands and silently implore Noah 
to take them in. Each of these pictures is realis- 
tic and lifelike. And yet the entire series is so 
arranged as sweetly to blend into one harmonious 
whole. And whether contemplating one of its 
parts, or the scene as a whole, you involuntary 
exclaim — "It is a thing of beauty," and must 
therefore be "a joy forever." 

Raphael was to the painters of Italy what 
John was to the Disciples of Christ, "The Beloved." 
I think, too, that as John was the disciple, 
so Raphael was the painter "whom Jesus loved." 
Though strong and determined as a man, he was 
mild and gentle as a woman. He had the "Sun- 



ROME ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 549 

shine of life" in his heart, and the "look of eternal 
youth" in his face. Methinks he was like David, 
"a man after God's own heart." Such a man 
could not paint hell. He had not seen it and 
knew nothing about it. His mission was to paint 
angels and innocence, Heaven and holiness, God 
and glory; and his fitness for this high calling 
amounted almost to divine inspiration. Never 
did the fires of genius burn more brightly upon 
the altar of devotion, than in the breast of 
Raphael. Never before, nor since, has divine 
glory been so perfectly pictured on canvas as in 
The Transfiguration. You see Christ at that 
supreme moment when "His face did shine as the 
sun, and His garments were white as the light." 
Moses and Elias, from the other world are there 
with their happy hearts, bright faces and glorified 
bodies. Below them are Peter, James, and John, 
reverently bowing to the earth, and shielding their 
faces from the light. Above all, but half envelop- 
ed in clouds, you see God the Father whose very 
expression says: "This is my beloved Son in 
whom I am well pleased, hear ye Him." Haw- 
thorne makes one of his characters in the Marble 
Faun say: "It is the spectator's mood that trans- 
figures The Transfiguration itself." This may 
be — I suppose it is — true, to some extent, but 
somehow I was in the mood. I admired this 
picture, I sat down before it "until it sank into my 
heart." I said: "Lord, it is good to be here, it 
seems only one step from Heaven and Home." 



550 ROME ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 

The beloved painter came to do what the be- 
loved Disciple left undone. John in his gospel 
failed to mention the Transfiguration, so Raphael 
was sent to fill up the omission with a picture. 

While it is true, as stated in the outset, that 
Art and Architecture are the chief features of 
modern Rome, yet Art is of primary, and Archi- 
tecture of secondary consideration. Italians build 
fine houses, not for the sake of the houses them- 
selves, but that they may display their "tasteful 
talents" in ornamenting and decorating them. I 
speak especially of churches, from the very fact 
that the Italians have not, nor do they want, fine 
Court-houses and costly Capitol buildings, as we 
have. They exercise their taste, and lavish all 
their wealth and art upon the churches or cathe- 
drals. There are eighty odd cathedals in Rome 
dedicated to the Virofin Marv alone. Besides 
these there are scores of others dedicated to men, 
and monks, seraphs, saints and sinners — one, I be- 
lieve, a small one, to Christ. Some of these, 
St. Peter's and St. Paul's especially are reckoned 
among the finest cathedrals in existence; and yet 
the external appearance of these buildings is not 
so imposing as one might imagine. It is their 
interior that has rendered them famous. 

Without entering these palaces of worship, one 
can have no just conception of their resplendent 
glory. They shine with burnished gold. They 
glow with pictures. The mirror-like pavements 
are a mosaic of rare workmanship. The walls, 



ROME ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 55 I 

columns, and arches seem a vast quarry of pre- 
cious stones, so rich and costly are the many-col- 
ored marbles with which they are inlaid. Their 
lofty cornices have flights of sculptured angels, 
and white doves bearingf grreen olive branches 
gemmed with pearls and emeralds. And within 
the vaults of the ceiling, and the swelling interior 
of the dome, there are frescoes of such brilliancy, 
and wrought with such artful perspective, that the 
sky, peopled with sainted forms, appears to be 
opened only a little way above the spectator. 

Any one of the four churches mentioned has at 
least a dozen altars — St. Peter's has twenty-nine — 
and upon each altar princely fortunes have been 
lavished. Each is a marvel of artistic beauty; 
each glows with burnished gold, and sparkles with 
precious stones. The evening sun, softened and 
mellowed by the many-colored glass through 
which it is reflected, falls like golden fire upon 
these shrines. The statues standing around and 
the angels hovering above the altars seem warmed 
into life by this radiant glow; the marble men 
struggle to speak, and the sculptured angels 
spread their wings and try to rise in the glorified 
atmosphere. One would naturally think that, in 
these shrines, the unspeakable splendor of the 
whole edifice would be intensified and gathered 
to a focus, but not so. It would be true else- 
where, but here they are of no separate account. 
They all "melt away into the vast, sunny breath," 



552 ROME ITS ART AND ARCHITECTURE. 

each contributing its little toward "the grandeur 
of the whole." 

Imagine "a casket, all inlaid in the inside with 
precious stones of various hues, so that there 
would not be a hair's breadth of the small interior 
unadorned with resplendent gems. Then conceive 
this minute wonder of a mosaic box increased to 
the magnitude of a miniature sky," and you have 
the interior of the greatest structure ever built 
by the hands of man, the Cathedral of St. Peter. 



CHAPTER XLVII. 

BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN ITALY. 



BY JOHN H. EAGER, ROME, ITALY. 



Why Italy is a Mission-Field— Beginning of the Work — Difficulties — Increase of 
Forces — Growth of Work — Sanguine Expectations 



THIS subject will awaken doubts in many 
minds, and give rise to numerous questions. 
Why should Italy be a mission-field? Did 
not Paul preach the gospel there? Did not Chris- 
tianity flourish vigorously in Italian soil during 
the early centuries? Has not Italy been prolific 
of good men, men unsullied in character, invin- 
cible in the midst of persecution, and unflinching 
in the presence of death? Is not Italy the home 
and headquarters of a great ecclesiastical organi- 
zation, calling itself par excellence the Christian 
Church of the world? Are there not in Italy to- 
day thousands of magnificent churches, hosts of 
religious teachers? Then why speak of Italy as 
a mission-field? Because the great mass of the 
people are really without the Gospel. 1 he pure 
form of the truth once preached in Rome and 
other parts of this sunny land has undergone such 
radical changes since the early centuries that it is 
no longer the Gospel, but a threefold mixture of 
Christianity, Judaism and Heathenism. Religion 



554 BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN ITALY. 

has degenerated into a mere form of Godliness 
without the power thereof. All attempts at re- 
form, however promising in the beginning, have 
failed. The spark that began to glow so brightly 
in the days of Luther, that seemed about to 
kindle into a brilHant flame destined to bring 
light and peace to many a troubled soul, was 
soon crushed and smothered, for those in author- 
ity loved darkness rather than light, and desired 
neither reform nor reformers. The long-continu- 
ed and fatal supremacy of Romanism has made 
Italy a needy and most difficult mission-field. 

As early as 1850, the Foreign Mission Board 
of the Southern Baptist Convention began to 
turn its attention to Europe. In 1869, the Board, 
in its annual report to the Convention, expressed 
the conviction that a solemn obligation was rest- 
ing upon Baptists to give a pure gospel to 
Catholic Europe, and Italy was recommended as 
probably the best place for a new mission, and as 
a field in special need of Baptist principles. In 
the spring of 1870, Rev. W. M. Cote, of Paris, 
was appointed to take charge of the Italian mis- 
sion. This was a momentous period in the his- 
tory of Italy, and marvelous things were about to 
take place. The great Ecumenical Council of 
the Catholic Church was then in session in Rome, 
and on July i8th the dogma of Papal Infallibility 
was proclaimed to the world. A few days later 
the Franco-Prussian war broke out, and the 
French troops were withdrawn from Rome, where 



BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN ITALY. 



555 



for years they had been the strong defense of the 
Pope. Seizing the God-given opportunity, Gari- 
baldi, ever ready for an emergency, again sounded 
the tocsin of war, and the Italian army marched 
forth and pitched its tents before the walls of the 




REV, JOHN H. EAGER, ROME, ITALY. 



Eternal City. The siege was brief, for on Sep- 
tember 20th the victorious army entered the city 
amid the cheers and congratulations of the entire 
population; the Pope, by a popular vote, lost 
his temporal power, and became the self-imposed 



556 BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN ITALY. 

prisoner of the Vatican; Rome was proclaim- 
ed the permanent capital of Italy, thus mak- 
ing the long-cherished dream of Italian patriots 
a blessed reality. This victory opened Rome 
and the whole Italian Peninsula to the preaching 
of the Gospel, and Christian workers from many 
quarters hastened to the rescue. Dr. Cote enter- 
ed the city at once and began his novel .work. 
Tracts were distributed, Bibles and Testaments 
were sold in laree numbers, and hundreds flocked 
to hear the Gospel. It seemed that the people 
were about to renounce Romanism and its errors, 
to become true Bible Christians, and the mission- 
aries fondly hoped that they were on the eve of a 
great revival. Would that their hopes had been 
well-founded! 

In 1872, Rev. Geo. B. Taylor D. D., of Virginia, 
was chosen by the Foreign Mission Board as the 
man best suited to meet the crisis through which 
the Italian mission was then passing. He brought 
to his arduous task rare wisdom and patience, 
and, undaunted by almost insuperable difficulties, 
conducted the affairs of the mission with much 
prudence and great self-denial. After several 
years he succeeded in buying a valuable mission 
property in Rome, not far from the Pantheon, 
which gave American Baptists "a local habitation 
and a name." The good work was vigorously 
prosecuted in other parts of Italy, new stations 
were opened, other Italian evangelists were ap- 
pointed, new churches were organized, a religious 



BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN ITALY. 557 

journal was established, and substantial progress 
was made all alongf the line. 

In November 1880, Rev. John H. Eager and 
wife, appointed as missionaries to Italy, reached 
Rome, where they have since resided and labored, 
realizing- more and more that mission work in 
Papal Rome presents peculiar difficulties and 
discouragements. Yet each year finds them more 
resolved to make it their life work, assured that 
they preach the same gospel which wrought such 
wonders in pagan Rome, and believing the Scrip- 
ture which saith, "Be not weary in well-doing, for 
in due season ye shall reap, if ye faint not." 

While results have not corresponded with the 
sanguine expectations of earlier years, still God's 
people have not labored in vain. The present 
working force of the American Baptist mission 
consists of two missionaries, thirteen native 
preachers, and three colporteurs, who are preach- 
ing the Gospel In more than thirty cities and 
towns, extending from the snow-capped moun- 
tains of the North, to the vine-covered plains of 
the South. Among the thirteen native preachers 
are men of more than ordinary ability. One, 
educated In Geneva, Is a fine linguist, being ac- 
quainted with six or seven languages, and able to 
preach In three of them. He Is said to be one of 
the best Hebrew scholars in Italy. Another was 
once a priest in high standing, the director and 
father- confessor of a monastery, and a friend of the 
present Pope. One, though uneducated. Is deeply 



558 BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN ITALY. 

versed in the Scriptures, and can quote almost 
any passage at will, giving book, chapter, and 
often verse. This knowledge he uses most effect- 
ually in public and in private. Two were educa- 
ted at Spurgeon's College. One is perhaps the 
only native Sardinian who ever became an evan- 
gelical minister. These brethren preach to 
thousands during the year, for people are coming 
and going during every service. Some enter by 
accident, or through curiosity, drawn in by the 
singing or speaking, then pass on to be heard from 
no more. But who can tell what influence such a 
visit may have upon their future life. 

Churches have been organized at all the princi- 
pal stations, and in addition to the mission prop- 
erty in Rome two other chapels have been secured, 
one in Torre Pellice, about thirty miles above 
Turin, and the other in Carpi, not far from Bo- 
logna. At all other stations services are held in 
rented halls. Two churches have been organized 
on the Island of Sardinia, where the work is pecu- 
liarily interesting and promising, but greatly in 
need of other laborers to sow the seed and reap 
the harvest* 

English Baptists have long had a mission in 
Italy. In 1866, Mr. Clark established himself 
in Spezia, where he has succeeded in building- 
up an excellent school, a good church and an 
orphanage. He has associated with him eight 

* Persons wishing: further information about Sardinia or Italy, can write to 
Rev. John H. Eager, via Arenula, Palazzo Gualdi, Rome, Italy. 



560 BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN ITALY. 

Italian evangelists, who occupy about twenty sta- 
tions. This mission is independent, being sup- 
ported by private contributions. The mission 
force of the Particular Baptists of England con- 
sists of four missionaries. Rev. James Wall and 
Rev. J. C. Wall, of Rome, Rev. W. K. Landels of 
Turin, and Rev. Robt. Walker of Naples, assisted 
by nine native preachers. They have two medi- 
cal dispensaries, a religious journal, printing-press 
and other auxiliaries to mission work. The Gen- 
eral Baptists of England also have two mission 
stations in Rome, under the superintendence of 
Rev. N. H. Shaw, who brings to bear upon his 
work Anglo-Saxon energy, and the varied experi- 
ence acquired in a successful pastorate at home. 

Besides these, several individual Baptists are 
consecrating their private means to the evangeli- 
zation of Italy. Among them may be mentioned 
Count Papengouth, who expends large sums an- 
nually in Naples and vicinity; and Miss Emery, 
an English lady of fortune, who devotes the whole 
of her time and income to Christian work in Italy, 
especially the publication and distribution of 
tracts. 

In estimating the success of mission work in 
Italy, one should be careful not to lose sight of the 
peculiar difficulties that confront the missionary. 
Under the old regime, in the days of papal supre- 
macy, good schools were rare and great ignorance 
prevailed. Even as late as 1881 nearly five per 
cent, of the entire population of Italy were unable 



. BAPTIST MISSION WORK IN ITALY. 56 1 

to read, which means that about twenty million 
Italians can be reached with the Gospel only by 
means of the livine voice, the tracts and the Bible 
being- to them a dead letter, 

Prejvidice is another serious hindrance. Some 
of the best and most sincere among the people 
honestly believe that protestantism is rank infidel- 
ity. A priest once said to a young man, in the 
writer's hearing, "Ah! beware of protestantism, 
beware of protestantism! Why, don't you know 
that protestantism was founded by Voltaire and. 
Tom Paine?" The abuses of Romanism have 
yielded a rich harvest of materialism and infidel- 
ity. The salt has lost its savor and men have 
cast it out and trodden it under foot. One of our 
greatest difficulties, especially in Rome, lies in the 
stolid indifference of the great mass of the people 
to all spiritual things. Thousands have been 
taught to depend on forms and ceremonies, and to 
relegate all personal responsibility to the Church 
and the priest, and to such our doctrines are by 
no means acceptable. 

In a land like Italy, where a great system of 
error has kept the people in ignorance and spirit- 
ual darkness, and bound them with fetters of iron, 
one must not expect too much. A few days ago, 
we were asked by a Christian woman, "How are 
you succeeding in your work.?" And on hearing 
the response she replied: 'T know Rome well, 
and I can assure you that it is a great marvel that 
you can do anything at all." But despite dif^cul- 



562 Baptist mission work in italy. 

ties and Satanic hatred and opposition much has 
been done. Italy has become a united and free 
country and liberty of speech is everywhere en- 
joyed; the Pope has lost his temporal power, and 
with it the rio^ht to interfere with the mission- 
ary of the Cross; hundreds and thousands of 
tracts and Bibles have been scattered amono- the 

o 

people, as silent but powerful witnesses for the 
Truth; prejudices have been overcome, and pub- 
lic opinion has been greatly modified and enlight- 
ened with reference to protestants and protestant- 
ism; more than three hundred Christian workers 
have been raised upon the field, and not less than 
10,000 persons have professed faith in Christ. It 
should not be forgotten that previous to 1848 not 
one publicly declared Italian evangelical could 
be found in Italy, and that before 1870, to preach 
or profess evangelical doctrine in Rome, meant 
certain imprisonment and possible death. While 
praying and hoping and earnestly laboring for 
much greater results, we can but exclaim, "The 
Lord hath done great things for us, whereof we 
are glad." 



CHAPTER XLVIII. 

FROM ROME, VIA PISA AND FLORENCE, TO VENICE. 



Peasants — A Three-Fold Crop — Elba, the Exiled Home of Napoleon — Pisa — 
Leaning- Tower — An Odd Burial-Ground — Florence — The Home of Savona- 
rola, Dante, and Michael Angelo — Art Galleries — On to Venice — A Flood — 
Johnson Excited — Storm Raging — Lightening the Ship — Venice, a Water- 
Lily — No Streets but Water — No Carriages but Gondolas — Shylocks. 



VIl H our face to the northward, we are now 
skirtking along the western coast of Italy. 
The air is crisp and cold, the sky soft and 
clear. Yonder, scattered over the bare hillside to 
our right, are many rude huts and humble peas- 
ant homes. The smoke slowly rising from the 
low chimneys curls up and on, and still up, until 
it stands like so many slender columns leaning 
against the sky for support. 

The peasants are at work, one feeding the 
chickens, the second holding the cow to grass, 
while the third is milking the goats. Everywhere 
the country is cut up into one, two, and three- 
acre plots by narrow ditches and low hedges 
which serve as fences to divide one peasant's 
patch from another. Each plot of ground is a 
vineyard, a wheat field and a mulberry orchard, 
the three growing together. 

The wheat is, of course, sown broadcast. The 
trees, twelve to eighteen feet high, are planted in 



564 FROM ROME VIA FLORENCE TO VENICE. 

Straight rows, fifteen feet apart. The healthy 
vines clamber up the mulberries, and wreathe 
themselves into huu^e and rich festoons from tree 
to tree. The ground rapidly glides from under 
us, the orchards, the villages and peasant homes, 
one by one dash by us. Now the sun is bending 
low in the evening sky, and, looking out over the 
broad expanse of waters on our left, we see not 
far away the island of Elba, the first exiled home 
of Napoleon Bonaparte. But this 'beautiful is- 
land was too small for so great a spirit. After 
one year's confinement here, Napoleon, rising up 
in his madness and might, broke the political 
fetters which the allied Powers had placed upon 
him, returned to Paris, gathered an army and 
marched to Waterloo. There his already waning 
star went down in blood to rise no more (181 5). 
As the dying day begins to wrap herself in the 
sombre folds of evening, we find ourselves in 
Pisa, a quiet little town of 26,000 inhabitants^ 
beautifully situated on both banks of the Arno, 
six miles from the sea. The night comes and 
goes. Next morning I am standing on the top 
of Pisa's "Leaning Tower," in time to see the sun 
rise. This tower is one of the wonders, not of 
the ancient, but modern world. It is some thirty- 
three feet in diameter and one- hundred and 
eighty feet in height, and leans thirteen feet out 
of the perpendicular. This oblique or leaning- 
position gives it a very peculiar appearance. It 
looks as if it were falling ; you expect every mo- 



FROM ROME, VIA FLORENCE TO VENICE. 566 

ment to see it dashed to pieces against the ground. 
But it has been in this position some 650 years, 
and, if we may argue from the past, many moons 
will wax and wane before it strikes the around. 
No one knows whether the original design was to 
build a leaning tower, or whether in the course of 
construction one side of the foundation gave way, 
and thus left the tower in an oblique position. 
It was by dropping balls from the summit of this 
tower that Galileo verified his theories regarding 
the laws of gravitation. It was the swaying of 
the bronze lamp which still hangs in the cathedral 
at the foot of this tower that first susfeested to 
Galileo the idea of -i pendulum. 

The Campo Santo, or burial-ground, of Pisa is 
interesting because of its history. After the Cru- 
saders were driven out of the Holy Land, in the 
year 11 90, Archbishop Ubaldo had fifty-three 
ship-loads of earth brought hither from Mount 
Calvary in order that the dead might repose in 
"holy ground." What men need to-day is not 
the earth of Calvary for their dead bodies, but 
the Christ of Calvary for their living spirits. 

Three hours after leaving Pisa, I am walk- 
ing through the streets of Florence, looking at 
her monuments, statues, palaces and cathedrals. 
Among the monuments, if so it might be named, 
is a splendid water fountain which marks the site 
of the stake at which Savonarola was burned, in 
1498, six years after the discovery of America. 
Like Elijah of old, Savonarola went from earth 



FROM ROME, VIA FLORENCE TO VENICE. 567 

to Heaven in a chariot of fire. The flames that 
wafted his spirit to the glory world are still 
burning brightly upon the pages of history. The 
martyr's ashes were thrown into the Arno, and 
were carried thence to the ocean. So the stream 
of Time will bear his influence on to the ocean of 
eternity. 

Of the many statues in the city, I will mention 
only Dante's. This excellent statue of white mar- 
ble is nine feet high, on a pedestal twenty-three 
feet high. It was unveiled with great solemnity, 
in 1865, in commemoration of the 6ooth anniver- 
sary of the immortal poet. Dante's greatest work 
was the "Divine Comedy." I also visited the 
house in which he was born in 1265. The house 
in which Michael Angelo was born in 1475 i^ now 
used as a picture gallery. He died in Rome in 
1564. His ashes were brought back to his native 
city, and now repose in a vault in the church of 
Santa Croce. 

The art galleries I found worthy of their fame, 
so beautiful in architectural design, so vast in ex- 
tent, so rich in the productions of the beet artists 
of every school. "Each street of Florence con- 
tains a world of art. The walls of the city are the 
calyx containing the fairest flowers of the humanf 
mind; and this is but the richest gem in the dia- 
dem with which the Italian people have adorned 
the earth." Florence has been the home of many 
of the greatest artists that have lived since the 
twelfth century. The main centres of art in 



568 FROM ROME, VIA FLORENCE 'lO VENICE. 

Florence are the Pitti and the Uffizi ealleries; 
these, being on the opposite sides of the Arno, 
are connected by a suspension gallery which spans 
the river. Thus one passes from one gallery to 
the other by means of this swinging corridor, 
which is itself flanked on both sides with faultless 
statues and lined with pictures that no money 
could buy. 

I wandered, one day after another, through the 
stately halls of many-colored marble in Florence. 
Many of these pictures I should like to show you, 
but I know full well that words can not copy 
them. To copy Raphael's "Madonna" would re- 
quire the hand of genius, and paints as beautiful, 
and as delicately mixed, as are the colors of the 
rainbow. 

"Variety is the spice of life," and truly it is re- 
freshing to come to this land of Art and Music 
after spending a few months in Asia and Africa. 
Since leaving home, more of my time has been 
spent among the mountains and around the lakes 
than in the cities; or, in other words, 

" I have been accustomed to entwine 
My thoughts with Nature rather in the fields 
Than art in galleries." 

"On to Venice" is the war cry. To reach there, 
we tunnel mountains, dash through a blinding 
snowstorm, and encounter a heavy rainfall. Pres- 
ently we are surrounded by water. The train 
stops. Johnson is excited; he thinks the bridge 



FROM ROME, VIA FLORENCE TO VENICE. 569 

is washed away. Looking out of the window, and 
pointing to the water, I ask a by-stander, "Is that 
the ocean.?" The reply is, "No; it is Venice." 
"A flood!" exclaims Johnson; "if it continues to 
rain in this way two hours longer, the whole city 
will be washed away, and we, where will we be.^^" 
By this time, as there is a gondola near, we, like 
Jonah, pay the fare therefore, and go down into 
it. We are soon on the way to the hotel. 

The storm is raging, the waves are dashing 
high. The gondola, which is black, and really re- 
minds one of a hearse, seems to be bearing us 
away to a watery grave. The boat must be 
lightened, or we will all go down. What to do, I 
know not, Hope wanes. "My latest sun is sink- 
ing fast." In the extremity of that hour, I say: 
"This I will do. I will throw overboard all 
hatred, envy and strife, all contention, malice 
and jealousy, all egotism, selfishness and pride." 
When I have emptied my heart of all these, a 
surprising change occurs. It is as if some divine 
one has whispered, "Peace, be still." 

Reader, this experience points a moral, if it 
does not adorn a tale. We are all voyagers on 
the Sea of Life. Tempests frequently come, and 
our frail bark is often threatened; but if we will 
only throw overboard our ignoble feelings and 
baser selves, a holy calm will settle on the face 
of the deep, and in our hearts we will have that 
"peace which passeth all understanding." 

Venice, you remember, is situated two miles 



5/0 FROM ROME, VIA FLORENCE TO VENICE. 

from the mainland, in a shallow part of the Adri- 
atic. Its 15,000 houses and ,palaces are built on 
117 islands. Streets are unknown. There are 
150 canals and 380 bridges in the city. The pop- 
ulation is 130,000, one-fourth of whom are paupers. 

Yes, here is Venice rising above the surface like 
a water nymph, and floating like a sea fowl on 
the ocean wave. She was once the ruler of the 
waters and their powers. Those days are past, 
but beauty is still here. "States fall, arts fade, 
but nature doth not die." There was never a 
horse, carriage, or wheel-barrow In the city. I 
presume there are half grown persons here who 
never saw any of these. The Venetians go visit- 
ing in boats, they go to market, to church, to the 
theatre, to the grave, in boats. 

The houses rise up out of the water; the, gon- 
dola, graceful in its motion as a serpent, glides up 
to the door, the people step in, and off they go. 
The gondola is a contrivance peculiar to Venice. 
It is twenty-five or thirty feet long, and is deep 
and narrow like a canoe. Its sharp bow and 
stern sweep upwards from the water like the 
horns of a crescent, with the abruptness of the 
curve slightly modified. The bow, which rises 
some six feet above the water, is ornamented with 
a steel comb and a broad battle ax. In the centre 
of the boat is a little house something like the 
body of a carriage. This is elegantly fitted up with 
cushioned seats, silk curtains, and glass windows. 
The gondolier, who is usually a picturesque rascal, 



FROM ROME, VIA FLORENCE TO VENICE. 57 I 

Stands erect in the stern of the boat, and with one 
oar he manages to guide and propel his boat with 
an accuracy and a speed that are truly surprising 
Almost every moment you expect your gondola 
to collide with some other; but by some timely 
turn the two glide gracefully by each other with- 
out touching. All the gondolas are painted black — 
the color of mourning. Well may Venice mourn. 
Her glory has departed. She is great only in 
history. 

The chief industry of Venice is glass manufac- 
ture. The first glass mirror that was ever made 
was manufactured here about the year 1,300. 
The Venetians are yet ahead in this kind of work. 
They now make men and monkeys, horses and 
houses, doves and donkeys, of glass. I saw them 
spinning glass; and without handling the thread 
one could not tell it from. silk. They fashion glass 
into buds and blossoms which need little else than 
perfume to make them as perfect as those wrought 
by Nature's hand. Perhaps the most delicate 
glass work I saw going on was the manufacture 
of human eyes. This, you may rest assured, re- 
quires skilled workmen. It is a large and remun- 
erative business. God and Venice furnish eyes 
for the world. In bargaining with the glass deal- 
ers, one soon finds that now, as in the days of 
Shakespeare, many Shylocks live in Venice, and 
each one contends for his "pound of flesh." 

If I had time to write another chapter con- 
cerning this "Ocean Queen," I would tell you 



572 FROM ROME, VIA FLORENCE TO VENICE. 

something about the Bridge of Sighs "with a 
palace and a prison on each hand," about St. 
Mark's Cathedral, which "looks more like the 
work of anofels than of men," about the eranite 
columns, one surmounted by "the winged lion and 
the other by St. Theodore, the protector of the 
republic." Of course it is a great pity (.?) that 
you can not read what I would write on these 
subjects if I had time, but, as this is impossible, 
perhaps the next best thing you could read would 
be "Childe Harold," "Stones of Venice," and "St. 
Mark's Rest." 



